


Flowers Fall

by Freckled_Panda, Jazzy_Cornflakes



Series: Flowers and Blades [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Badass Katsuki Mari, Badass Katsuki Yuuri, Break Up, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Cutesy, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Eventual Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, Language of Flowers, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, References to Depression, References to Suicide, Shy Katsuki Yuuri, Wholesome, Yuri Plisetsky's Nickname Is Yurio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 81,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckled_Panda/pseuds/Freckled_Panda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzy_Cornflakes/pseuds/Jazzy_Cornflakes
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is an ex-figure skater, forced to retire due to a tragic accident two years ago. The very same one that wiped out his memories from the entirety of his career. He now lives in a different country as a florist, deciding to lead a calm, underwhelming life, not thriving to change a thing. But, when an unexpected customer barges into his shop right before closing time, Yuuri could find himself thrown so far back into his past, he might just realize that maybe his injuries were no accident, after all.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Original Male Character(s), Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov/Original Character(s)
Series: Flowers and Blades [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929214
Comments: 124
Kudos: 164





	1. Someone Special

Today was only what could be described as a truly beautiful day. Amidst the withdrawing rays of sun who gently caressed everything they touched, the wind was softly drawing some scarce leaves and all of the alike into a merry-go-round. 

Birds, having recently recovered from their seasonal slumber, voiced their joyful songs, bringing hope that warm days will soon return.

Though it was close to evening, one could still see the traffic of passers-by, hurrying to wherever it is they need to be, or rather, casually strolling along their way, taking the time to enjoy the scenery unraveling about them. Newly opened parks and playgrounds hosted school children, who were running about, playing tag or hide-and-seek, squealing and laughing as they went. 

Snow had nearly entirely disappeared, revealing meek little snowdrops here and there, among young bright-green grass. The air smelled of freshness and new life, merging with the sweet aroma of seasonal flowers of the nearby florist shop owned by a young man who was known for his vast botanic knowledge, hence his popularity in the neighborhood. 

“You have a great evening sir!” Yuuri smiled warmly, bidding his last customer of the day farewell. He sighed happily, today was quite a good day for him. He’d managed to sell several pre-made bouquets as well as two custom ones, which wasn’t always the case. 

Standing from behind his desk, he looked about the store, seeking for unfinished work that he would have to complete before going home. Then again, who was he kidding? There would be no one but an empty lodging waiting for him, so what was the point of leaving early?

No, he would instead stay here long after dark, brainstorming ideas for various compositions that he would later put on display in the store. His works always seemed to have some sort of special message behind them, hidden either in their particular color palette or in the flowers themselves. That aspect of his creations is what made him such an exceptional florist, and he loved every bit of it.

Convinced that everything was in order, Yuuri grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He realized there was still half an hour left until closing time, so he chose to put his creativity to work. 

He plugged in his headphones and let the music soothe him. A lively piano instrumental softly resonated about the store as the boy scribbled some brief notes in his notebook. This time, instead of just letting his intuition guide him, he was actually planning everything ahead. The reason being, he had a _very_ specific idea in mind. 

Yes, it was going to be nothing less than perfect, as he was ready to pour his heart and soul into this. He was going to make a particularly special bouquet, and he was going to gift it to someone just as special.

Yuuri gently swayed from side to side, lightly humming to himself while he gathered everything he thought he would need on his worktable. A pair of secateurs in hand, he began his work with determination. 

White carnations, red chrysanthemums, a bit of daisy here and there, as well as a touch of purple lilac - one of his personal favourites - were soon all laying on the table, among some other flowers. He cautiously wrapped them with a white plastic sheet, finalizing his masterpiece with a large ice blue bow.

So immersed in his work, the boy failed to realize that it was now way past closing time and that he had forgotten to actually close the store. Though it wasn’t really the first time he’d done such a thing, he would eventually get to lock the doors as soon as possible without any ‘accidents’.

Suddenly, the front door sprang open, making the bell ring frenetically. Yuuri couldn’t help but let out a surprised squeal. He had most certainly not been expecting anyone at this hour, especially on a weeknight. 

“Thank god, you’re still open,” the customer sighed in relief, though quickly catching himself, discerning the florist’s disheveled state. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I scare you?” he inquired concernedly, his voice thick with a foreign accent. 

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Yuuri chuckled, putting down his headphones. “I was in dire need of a wake-up call anyway...I will help you in a moment, just let me clean this up…” 

“Oh, then I suppose I’ll take a look around in the meantime” the man simply replied and silence filled the room.

Ridden with curiosity, Yuuri tried to steal a few subtle glimpses at his customer, instead of actually cleaning up. The first thing that caught his attention is the man’s bright silver hair - platinum blonde would be the correct term. 

The man, the florist realized, was quite tall. Or perhaps was he the short one? Either way, there was a significant height difference between them and that’s all that mattered.

Everything about this newcomer seemed so...how to say...remarkable. Everything from his classy elegant appearance, all the way to his mannerism, gave off that mysterious aura that Yuuri had yet to discern.

“Wow, these really are beautiful” the man whistled, snapping Yuuri out of his daydream. 

The latter frantically scooped up the rest of his belongings and shot back a small ‘thank you so much’ as he dropped everything off in the back room and hurried to the front desk. 

“Whew, sorry about that!” he apologized, gesturing for the tall man to come closer. “So, how may I help you today?” 

“Um, I’m looking for something for someone... special” the silver-haired man replied, running a hand through his hair.

_Special_. There was that word again. Yuuri subconsciously glanced back at his newly finished bouquet. He realized that the bow that graced it matched the man’s eyes nearly tone to tone.

“Is for a mother or a friend perhaps?” the florist inquired.

“Uh...no, it’s actually for my fiancée. We’re getting married in a few months...” the other replied somewhat uneasily.

All trace of emotion suddenly faded from Yuuri’s face. He couldn’t fathom any words but a brief, mildly disappointed ‘oh’.

He mentally slapped himself. What an idiotic assumption. This man was obviously attractive enough to have a significant other, so why did it even upset him? He shouldn’t even care about his customers’ social lives outside of work. This was embarrassing. _Very_ embarrassing...

The florist regained his composure in a matter of seconds and his lips sprawled into a slightly forced smile. 

“Might I suggest roses then?” he asked, pointing to a wall next to him. Several multi-colored bouquets and posies were carefully arranged on a stand that stretched nearly across the entire wall. 

The taller man only glimpsed in that general direction and shook his head. “This might seem silly,” he began, running a hand through his silver hair. “but I’d like it to convey some sort of message…” He awkwardly looked up and was immediately met with Yuuri’s understanding gaze. It made him feel a little bit better.

“It’s not silly at all!” Yuuri exclaimed. “In fact, I have just the thing for you!” he proudly stated as he made his way towards his work table, where lay his new masterpiece. 

Wait a minute.

This wasn’t meant to happen like that. 

This bouquet was supposed to be for someone _special_ to him and he was ready to sell it to some random man so that he, in turn, could gift it to some random woman? 

And yet, he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that it was the right to do.

All of his instincts screamed, yelled, and cried as he brought the bouquet to the man, who seemed struck with awe. 

“Holy…” the latter whispered. Yuuri only smiled shyly in return.

“Let me reveal you the secret hidden within this one” he announced, just like a magician who’s about to blow his audience away. “These flowers tell a love story. The purple lilac conveys the feeling of first love, then the white carnations and daisies represent innocence and pure love. The chrysanthemums, in turn, speak of fidelity, joy, and long life.” he explained, carefully pointing each flower as he went. 

To say that the silver-haired man was appropriately gobsmacked would be a bit of an understatement. His eyes lit up, matching the bow all the more. 

“This is perfect!” he exclaimed, radiant with joy. “She’s gonna love it!”

“I sure hope she will,” Yuuri replied with a bitter-sweet smile.

“Oh, but how much is it though?” the blue-eyed man asked with slight concern in his voice.

Suddenly filled with a wave of unprecedented confidence, the florist gave a sly smile. “Tell you what,” he placed his hands on his hips. “I’ll cut you a deal, but you’ll have to come back and tell me all about her reaction. Okay?”

The tall man chuckled in response. “Yeah, I think I could do that.” he stretched out his hand, which Yuuri gladly took.

What was happening to him? He was acting really out of character ever since that man walked through that door. Where did that confident Yuuri crawl out from and how to keep him from crawling away?

The man’s hands were quite warm, which was very welcome since his own hands were stone cold. Their touch lingered for a few seconds too many until he reluctantly let go. When he did, he could feel his hand craving for the other’s warmth.

This wasn’t good. It _couldn’t_ be good.

“Um, so let me wrap this up nicely for ya,” the florist said, making sure not to damage the fragile composition in his hands.

“Oh, god I didn’t realize it was this late!” the silver-haired man exclaimed, looking at his watch. “I might be late for dinner tonight!”

Yuuri’s head shot up towards the clock. It was in fact half-past seven. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry to have kept you in here for so long!” he apologized, ridden with regret. 

“No, no, don’t you worry about it,” the other assured, smiling lightly. “It was really nice to spend some time here with you.”

The shorter boy felt a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “If you say so…” he quietly muttered, not quite daring to look his customer in the eye.

They soon quickly exchanged their goods and the taller man started to make his way towards the door but stopped dead in his tracks right before opening it. He turned to the florist and stated in confusion “I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves.”

“No, indeed we haven’t” the latter admitted with a bit of guilt. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Yuuri, huh?” the man replied thoughtfully. “I’m Victor Nikiforov.”

He had already opened the door when Yuuri called him out. 

"One last thing before you leave,” the shorter boy began. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Oh, was it the accent that gave me away?” Viktor chuckled. “No, I’m from Russia.”

“Woah, Russia!” the other exclaimed in amazement.

“I take it you’re not from here either, huh?” the blue-eyed man inquired, eyebrow raised.

“I’m Japanese actually!” Yuuri replied proudly.

“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Yuuri.” the Russian man said, slightly waving farewell.

“Likewise, Victor.” The Japanese boy smiled sincerely.

The door shut and once again, the room fell into complete silence.


	2. He Was Kind Enough To Help

An hour later, Victor finally got to the restaurant where he was meeting his fiancée tonight. Subtly fixing his suit, he walked past the reception, into the main room. 

He was late. Obviously. Even with little traffic, there was no way he’d overcome half an hour’s worth of road in fifteen minutes.

Several scarlet leather-covered booths were placed in neat rows with small passageways between them. Little chandeliers hung almost over each of the booths, providing a dim source of light. 

Dark oak walls were covered with a variety of paintings and decorative flowers. A low hum of chatter lingered in the room, despite the fact that the restaurant was almost fully booked.

Luckily, he’d made the reservation two weeks ago, so there was no trouble with finding a good spot for them. They often came to eat there, mainly because it was quite close to where they lived.

Victor had no trouble finding his loved one, for she was sitting close to the entrance, next to a window. Her long auburn locks were let loose, falling around her light chiffon golden dress. She was dreamily looking outside, checking her watch every few minutes, visibly getting more and more impatient every time, tapping the table with her long, manicured nails.

“ _Katusha_ , sorry I’m late,” the blue-eyed man quickly apologized as he approached the woman and pecked her on the cheek. 

“My God, _Vitya_ ” she reprimanded him. “You really know how to keep a woman waiting, don't you?”

“Again, I’m sorry,” the latter sighed, gazing at the woman’s imperturbable stance. Crimson lips tight, arms crossed, eyebrows bridged, she clearly wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Look, let me make it up to you.” Victor sat down across her, desperate to fix the situation before it got out of control. “I ran late because I got you _these,_ ” he exclaimed proudly and showed off the flowers he’d just bought.

At the sight of the gift, Katherine’s initial dissatisfaction instantly gave way to an expression of pure awe. She carefully took the flowers from her fiancé’s hands and smelled them with closed eyes. When she looked up to him again, his lips were sprawled in a smile.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered and kissed him on the cheek. “How did you know that lilac was my favourite?”

“Just intuition, I guess,” Victor chuckled. “But, hey, that’s not all!”

“What more could there be?” Katherine inquired, grinning. 

“These flowers actually tell a love story,” the man revealed, slightly giggling at the woman’s exaggerated confused expression. “yes, you’ve heard me correctly, and no, I swear I’m not joking.” She only shrugged in response.

“You see this...uh…purple...” the silver-haired man pointed at one of the flowers he couldn’t recall the name of and looked up to the brunette for help.

“...you mean the _lilac_?” she asked, a sly smile on her lips. That caught him a bit off guard since he’d quite literally just admitted that he didn’t know what her favorite flower was.

“That, yes,” he exclaimed, a guilty smile on his lips. “The purple lilac means ‘first love’”

The lady looked somewhat impressed, yet a slight trace of disbelief still graced her smile. “If that is so, then what do these daisies and carnations mean?” she questioned with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, they speak of innocence and pure love,” Victor explained, recollecting what Yuuri had told him. “Then, the chrysanthemums, my favourites, represent joy, fidelity, and long life.”

“Wow…” the woman uttered with little droplets in her green eyes. “Looks like you really went out of your way for me, huh? I’m sorry I was mad at you earlier, I just didn’t know…”

He gently took her hands in his. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I still love you.”

“I love you too…” Katherine smiled softly.

“Are you two ready to order?” a waitress suddenly approached them, interrupting their sincere moment.

“Yes, thank you,” Victor replied, looking at the menu. “We’ll have one lasagna for two, a large caesar salad and a bottle of white wine.”

“Alright, it’ll be ready soon!” the lady smiled politely. 

“Oh, _Katush’_ , didn’t you say you were starting a new book?” he inquired when the waitress had left.

“Yes, actually!” Katherine admitted. “Glad you remembered.”

“What was it about again?”

“I’ve started a romantic novel,” she explained. “about a shy bookkeeper falling in love with an outgoing florist she met in her store.”

“Opposites attract, huh?” the blue-eyed man chuckled lightly. “And what would your progress be?”

“Well, I’m currently at the part where the man gifts the woman all sorts of bouquets with different messages hidden in them,” the woman pondered. “So your gift made me think of it…”

“Here are your drinks.” the waitress announced, setting a bottle and two glasses on the table. Victor murmured a small ‘thank you’ and she went off again.

“ _Vitya_ , I meant to ask,” the brunette began after a few seconds of silence. “Where did you even get those flowers?”

“Oh, I got them at a flower shop, not too far from here.” the silver-haired man replied, pouring them both a drink. “The owner was very kind.”

“And it was _still_ open that late?” the woman exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

“Now that I think of it,” the man pondered in confusion. “I do recall seeing the opening hours, and it definitely wasn’t supposed to be open then.”

“Then how come you bought these?” Katherine inquired, slightly confused.

“Well, the door was unlocked and he was still inside, so he was kind enough to help me,” Victor concluded, running a hand through his hair. 

“I see…” the green-eyed woman trailed off. “Do you think I could maybe meet him? He seems like he could help me with my book!” she asked with stars in her eyes.

“I don’t see why not.” the blue-eyed man agreed with a smile and they clinked their glasses.

* * *

It was now far past midnight, but Yuuri still laid sleeplessly in his bed. The overwhelming silence in his dark empty apartment gave way to the capharnaüm of thoughts spinning in his head like a hurricane.

Staring at the colorless ceiling, he reminisced of today’s events, today’s encounters. Well, one encounter in particular. He was still thinking about Victor, that silver-haired man who went past his defenses so effortlessly and he didn’t even try to stop him.

He couldn’t understand why did that man leave such an impression on him when he barely knew him. Moreover, why did Victor choose to spend more time with him in the shop, instead of actually rushing him and getting to wherever it is he needed to be? Why would he choose _him_ over his _fiancée_?

He didn’t like any of this. He didn’t like the idea of _trusting_ Victor to come back since _not_ trusting people was all he was used to. He didn’t like the idea that the blue-eyed man could get closer to him and see all of his flaws on display. And he absolutely _despised_ the idea that he could lose a potential friend and end up with a far more damaged heart than he’d ever want. 

Yuuri flipped on the other side, now facing the window. The moon faced him back, so big and bright. Tears suddenly pricked his eyes and he hugged his pillow tightly, muffling his sobs. He didn’t even know why he was crying, but he cried anyway. Tears poured out of his eyes like rivers with no intent to stop. 

He hated crying. It made him feel weak and worthless. His dark thoughts whispered to him, like a monster under his bed, that he wasn’t good enough for anyone. That nobody would ever love him for what he was, and the boy had no way to stop it.

 _'Stop...please...'_ he silently begged.

Taking deep, shaky breaths, he untangled himself from his blanket, shivering from the sudden lack of warmth. He slowly walked towards his bathroom, nearly tripping on a stack of books in the process. 

The floor of his room could barely be seen, as it was almost completely covered with discarded clothes, papers, pencils, and notebooks. And to think that it was sparkly clean just a few nights ago...

He gently opened the bathroom door and subconsciously turned on the lights, immediately blinding himself. He hissed soundlessly and shut his eyes tight while adjusting to the light. His bare feet carefully palped the cold floor tiles as he made his way towards the sink. 

When he finally adapted to the brightness of the room, he opened the cold tap and frantically splashed freezing water on his face, numbing his senses. When he had looked up to grab a towel, he accidentally caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He was a mess.

Puffy red eyes, hair going each way but loose, crumpled over-sized tee-shirt and old sweatpants, this, to Yuuri, was his true form and he would give anything to keep that tucked away, far from the spotlight.

He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his dark messy hair. He’d better get to sleep, tomorrow is another day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter out! How are you guys liking the story? What did you think of Katherine? Are you excited to learn more about everyone's backstory? 
> 
> I'll try to post every few days until I figure out a proper schedule, but until then, thank you for reading!


	3. That’s What Friends Are For

Yuuri sleepily looked out the window, listening to the interminable pitter-patter of water droplets against the glass. He was really tired, and there were a plethora of possible reasons explaining his lack of energy, yet he didn’t even know which one to start with. 

He wasn’t in a bad mood, on the contrary, he was quite happy with his work today. He somehow gathered enough strength to clean up around his store, which he, quite frankly, has been dreading for the past week or so.

Despite it pouring buckets outside, several customers came in today, mostly requesting pre-made bouquets for birthdays or their significant others. Regardless of his somnolence, the florist tried his best to be energetic with his clients and help them, which wore him down that much more.

He wished he could just go home for the day, except he really didn’t. He didn’t feel like being trapped in his empty house and having his thoughts be his only companion. All he really wished was to lay somewhere, listen to a musical or two, and take a nap.

Unfortunately for him, he neglected to place any sort of chair for that purpose. He considered laying down on the floor but concluded that it probably wouldn’t be the most sanitary of ideas. 

He was unexpectedly interrupted by the appearance of who he thought to be another random customer until he heard his nicely familiar voice. 

“Yuuri!” the boy exclaimed, running up to the surprised florist and engulfing him in a big bear hug. 

“Oh, my God, Phichit!” the latter gasped, hugging him back. All traces of drowsiness suddenly vanished at the sight of his friend. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be back home until next week?”

Phichit was a professional figure skater, just like Yuuri used to be. The only difference between them is that the latter had to unexpectedly drop out because of _personal issues_. As for his friend, he had just won a silver medal in a regional championship and was supposed to be taking a well-deserved break.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” the other laughed and pulled away. “Sure, Thailand is fun, but I don’t have many friends there” he shrugged. “Besides, how are ya?”

“Eh, I’m doing as good as ever,” Yuuri uttered with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. “You know how things go around here.”

“Oh yeah, believe me, I do!” the Thai boy exclaimed, ruffling his friend’s hair, earning a hearty giggle from him. “You sit in here 24/7 and never go out!”

“Well, it’s not like I can just drop everything and walk out!” the Japanese boy argued, a large smile on his lips. “I still have a job to do, you know?”

“La-la-la-la-la-la-la, can’t hear your excuses, sorry! ” Phichit yelled, covering his ears with his hands, drowning out the other’s voice until they both broke into a fit of laughter.

“Seriously though,” the tan boy spoke between hiccups. “You do need to go have fun sometimes. You can’t just be confined here like a frickin’ Rapunzel wannabe.”

“I’ll have you know I meet a whole lot of interesting people here.” the florist defended, arms crossed.

“Your imaginary friends don’t count, ya know.” his friend snickered.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” the Japanese boy mocked, holding back a grin. “I was actually being serious.”

“Is that so?” the Thai boy inquired, placing his hands on his hips. “And who might have you met, huh?”

“Well...his name is Victor,” Yuuri replied. “He was the last customer of the day.”

“Victor, huh?” Phichit uttered. “And what was so special about him?”

That seemingly innocent question put Yuuri on the spot. He wasn’t sure what to say and uncertainty spread across his features.

“I...don’t really know, actually,” he replied, biting his lip. “He just came in for a bouquet for his fiancée…”

“Woah, Woah, Woah, there,” the tan boy interrupted. “He has a _fiancée_?” The Japanese boy nodded in response. 

“So, what happened between you two?” he continued, confused. Yuuri quickly described their first encounter, watching Phichit get progressively more and more disoriented, to a point where his goofy exaggerated expression made his friend snort.

“Wait, but when exactly was that, then?” the Thai boy asked, visibly trying to piece the events together in his head.

“A week or so ago...I think…”

“Seriously?!” the skater exclaimed, gobsmacked. “And he _still_ didn’t catch up with you on that?”

Phichit was somewhat outraged. The last thing he needed was Yuuri suffering _another_ heartbreak. He could see in his friend’s eyes that this ‘Victor’ clearly made an impression on him, and a big one at that. This couldn’t end well, because that man obviously didn’t care about his friend nor actually deserve him. Nothing good would come out of this and Phichit would be, once again, left to put Yuuri back together, and that’s something he wouldn’t want to live through again. Not after what _he_ ’d done.

He was at loss for words, really. Usually, he’d always have a witty comment up his sleeve that would almost immediately fix the situation, but not this time. He needed a distraction and fast.

Seeing how the florist was getting upset himself, he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him lightly.

“Ya know what?” the tan boy began, smiling slyly at Yuuri’s confusion. “Like it or not, we’re gonna forget about this Victor and go out for a walk or whatever.”

“Isn’t it raining though?” the Japanese boy tried to interject as his friend began steering him towards the door.

“Not anymore, it ain’t.” the latter decided, before pushing his friend outside and throwing him his jacket.

Phichit turned out to be correct because not a single cloud could be seen in the vast blue firmament. Though everything was still dripping and large puddles dominated most of the walkway, it was a clear improvement compared to less than half an hour ago.

Yuuri reluctantly locked his shop after flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed. He disliked the fact that he’d given up that easily, but deep down, he knew that his friend was absolutely right. There was no reason to dwell on those who don’t appreciate you, right? That’s what he’d been telling himself, anyway.

“Okay, okay, okay,” the Thai boy bounced on his tiptoes impatiently. “Where should we head first?”

“Well, I mean there’s a nice park just a block away,” the Japanese boy suggested and pointed in that general direction. “We could go there.”

“Then there we go!” his friend agreed and they took off.

As they walked, Phichit would _not_ stop interrogating Yuuri about his life by himself. ‘Are you eating well?’, ‘Are you staying healthy?’ and more improtantly, 'Have you picked up skating at all?'. The poor florist had barely begun answering one question when another, longer one was thrown at him. By the time they’d arrived at the park, he already felt so mentally exhausted, that he simply plopped himself on the nearest bench and let out a large sigh.

“Hey, lazybones,” the skater jokingly called out, grabbing his chiffon doll of a friend in an attempt to lift him up. “We came here so you could engage in _physical_ activities, not _lying down_.”

“Ugh, fine,” the latter whined and got on his feet. “But it’s my turn to ask questions!”

“Ask away.” the Thai boy shrugged, slightly picking up his pace. “You’ll have to keep up though!”

“Oh, you little…” the black-haired boy whispered, holding back a smile. He quickly caught up to his friend and took ahold of him, preventing him from escaping further. 

“Anyway, how’s your family back in Thailand?” he inquired between breaths.

“Oh, well, Ma’ and Pa’ are doing alright,” Phichit replied, playing with his dark brown hair. “And as for my hamsters, they’re in my pocket.”

“In your _what_ , now?” Yuuri shot back, certain to have misheard the other boy.

“My pocket!” the tan boy joyfully exclaimed, reaching in his pocket and taking out at least three hamsters. 

The Japanese boy wasn’t confused. No, he was far beyond that. He watched in disbelief as his friend took out a carrot and fed it to his little pets, who eagerly munched on the vegetable.

“What the fu…” the florist muttered, but the skater swiftly interrupted him with a ‘watch yo’ frickin’ profanity!’, earning himself a reprimanding glare. 

As if it was orchestrated, they both suddenly looked to the ground and continued their way in almost pure silence, interrupted only by the chirping of the occasional songbird. The hamsters had retreated to their little safe haven.

The park was gorgeous, to say the least. Recently renovated white and blue pathways lead everywhere from dining areas to several playgrounds, crossing around marble fountains and numerous flowerbeds. There even was a rumour that Yuuri would’ve designed one of them, but he would never admit it. Large decennial trees stood proud here and there, surrounded with little pebble fences for aesthetic purposes. 

As they strolled on in quietude, the black-haired boy could feel a question burning his lips. It’s been so long since he’d talked about this with literally anyone, but he just couldn’t bring himself to speak it out loud. Too many memories were attached to this particular chapter of his life, far too painful and deep to dive in again.

Phichit must have sensed it too because he muttered “The skating world really lost something when you’d retired, ya know?” 

Yuuri gaped at his friend, eyes wide. “Wha...what?” he uttered, surprised. “Why bring that up out of the blue?”

“Oh, come on, Yuuri,” the Thai boy sighed. “It was written all over your face!”

The Japanese boy bit his lip and looked away. He knew exactly what was coming next and he mentally prepared himself for it. His friend could see right through him, it was unbelievable.

“Here, let’s take a seat,” Phichit suggested and they made their way towards a nearby bench, set in a nice shady spot. As they had sat down, they could both feel the slight uneasiness in the air, foreshadowing the heavy conversation that is about to ensue.

A few seconds passed. Silence…

A minute or two went by. Any time now…

But it just never came.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” the brown-haired boy assured, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, just, ya know, give me a call and I’ll be there.”

The florist nodded with a soft smile gracing his face. He was _so_ grateful for Phichit to be here for him when no one else was. He was his one friend who he would trust with his life and he was immensely glad that he didn’t push that painful subject further.

“Hey, you do know that you can call me too, right?” Yuuri inquired, grinning. “Don’t you dare burden everything on your own!”

“Of course, I know that,” the other smirked. “That’s what friends are for...yeah?”

“Yeah!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look who's showed up! I will include more YOI characters in future chapters, as soon as the story sets, so don't you worry!
> 
> Thank you for reading~


	4. Picking Up Fallen Petals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains profanity. Viewer discretion advised.

Large imposing clouds covered the entire firmament, stretching themselves from one side of the horizon to another. Gusts of wind aggressively snatched everything in their way, be it a couple of leaves or someone’s hat. The outside world was stormy and dismal.

It was just one of _those_ days, where Yuuri would rather die than attempt to get out of bed and, heaven forbid, drag himself to the store. He’d barely slept last night, as his mind strictly kept him awake, whispering all sorts of monstrosities to him, hence his dreadful state. Had it not been for his serious commitment to his work, he would’ve probably slept until late afternoon.

But he hasn’t, and it showed. His skin was deathly pale, dark eyebags settled around his eyes, dry lips, chapped from the excessive biting, and that was barely scratching the surface. He thought of himself as a clutter of disarray, a tiny little angry gremlin accustomed to his fort of blankets, never seeing the light of day. 

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that the boy already wasn’t exactly in the best of moods nor spirits, and the terrible weather only made it worse. By the time he’d arrived at the store -fifteen minutes before opening, mind you- he was about to drop dead from exhaustion. 

Shivering from the ferocious wind, the florist quickly unlocked the doors, entered and flipped the ‘closed’ sign back to ‘open’, or at least he thought he did. During his episodes of weariness, he always kept in mind the vague possibility that everything happening around him might just turn out to be a fever dream, which happened every now and then. 

To his eyes, the shop looked just as gloomy as he felt, maybe because the monochromatic palette of the outside world simply overwhelmed the lively colors of his flowers, and it was so much easier just to roll with it than trying to find any source of joy. 

Moreover, he noticed that it has almost been two full weeks since Victor last set foot in the store, regardless of the fact that they had a deal. Maybe Phichit was right after all, and it was just a big waste of time and energy...

Letting out a large sigh, Yuuri put himself to work, his mind numb. He began by closely examining the plants, cutting out everything that’s withered or died overnight, particularly saddened when he had to remove a whole branch of lilac from one of his bushes, as it was wilted beyond salvation. 

Then, he went on with dusting his succulents terrariums, as he did every day, making sure the soil wasn’t too moist, nor too dry, or its fragile mini-ecosystem might suffer greatly, and he didn’t want that.

Right after, he carefully watered the flowers that required watering and added freshly fertilized soil in the pots where it was needed. The boy was glad to notice that his orchids who were close to dying just a week ago, were doing that much better thanks to his intensive supervision.

Having realized that there was no immediate task to complete, he plugged in his headphones and sat down in his work chair, closing his eyes. He softly hummed along with the music, chasing away any intrusive thoughts, and ended up falling asleep without meaning to.

All of his dreams were mostly blank, monochromatic, and devoid of any sort of emotional beacon that would make them memorable. All, but one. 

In that dream, Yuuri was standing on a podium, beaming under the harsh flashes of cameras and projectors. A shiny gold medal hung proudly around his neck. He could hear thousands of people chant his name in unison, like a bewitching mantra. 

His heart pounded in his ears, still pumping adrenaline through his veins, sending shivers down his spine. He felt pride swell up his chest, as he saluted the raving crowd and took a graceful bow. 

Suddenly, the audience merged into an enormous petrifying silhouette. It was no longer chanting his name.

Instead, it now spoke with a _far_ too familiar voice. The same voice that would whisper monstrosities to him in the dead of night. The voice belonging to the very same man that could shatter the boy’s confidence in a heartbeat. 

Terrified, he watched helplessly as the figure reached out its arm and shoved him from the podium, except he didn’t hit the ice. Everything around him disappeared, the other competitors, the rink was nowhere to be seen. 

Crying out, he fell to his knees, as the shadow slowly approached him, enticing him to come closer. It smiled, showing its perfectly white teeth, all the more terrifying in contrast with its pitch black body.

“ _Yuuri_ ”, it playfully beckoned, elongating the ‘u’. “ _Don’t you love me?”_

Pause. 

The boy awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

“ _What in the name of God was that…?”_ he whispered between breaths. He was beside himself from shock and bewilderment. He felt like the ground under him could collapse and he would fall a long way down, into the abyss of forgotten memories…

 _“_ Nope, nope, nope, nope,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his head with his hands and setting his elbows on the table. “I don’t want to go back…”

The music in his headphones was still going on, which was slowly becoming more and more irritating, so he decided to shut it off before he went insane. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the time and realized it was _several hours_ after opening time, and no customer had yet made an appearance.

The boy frantically looked around the empty store and his spirits fell even more if that was even possible. He was disappointed. Even in stormy weather, there’d always be at least _two_ people coming in every hour or so. Apparently, today just was a hell of an unlucky day. Crestfallen and overloaded with days’ worth of bottling up emotions, he set his head on the desk and wept silent tears. 

Unbeknownst to Yuuri, another man was currently running up the street towards the flower shop, chased by the wind, striving to knock him off his feet. He held on to his coat for dear life as he finally approached his destination. The man quickly glanced at the opening hours and cursed under his breath when he read that the store was closed today. He was about to turn around when he noticed a familiar figure in the boutique and let out a hearty gasp of relief. 

Unfortunately, it was very short-lived, because when he tried to open the door to let himself in, he found out, to his great dismay, that it was locked. He cursed again and knocked on it, but the silhouette hasn’t budged from its spot.

“Yuuri!” the man called out, all to no avail. “It’s me, please let me in!” The wind roughly struck him left and right, just about ready to carry him with it. He pounded on the door, just that much louder, but still got no response.

From the large shop window, the man could clearly see into the store. Its owner was taking a nap, or at least that’s what it seemed like. He knocked on the window and saw the florist’s head sharply shoot up in surprise.

The latter made his way towards the door, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. He looked at the window, squinted a bit, then opened up to the taller man, who quickly came in and let out a large sigh.

“You do realize…” he inquired between huffs. “That the door was locked...right?”

“Oh, it was?” the black-haired boy muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Guess it _was_ a fever dream after all...”

The man raised an eyebrow in incredulity. “Do you remember me, Yuuri?” he inquired, running a hand through his silver hair.

“Victor, right?” the other replied, softly nodding. “I just didn’t expect any visitors today…”

The blue-eyed man took a long look at the florist. He was a little ball of mess and disorder. Puffy, dark eyes, skin devoid of color, hair sticking out in every direction, a slight pout on his lips. That combined with his careless attitude, he definitely looked like the parallel opposite of the Yuuri he met two weeks ago.

“Are you okay?” Victor asked with concern. “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks for the compliment.” the Japanese boy shot back sarcastically, avoiding the question. He didn’t want to embarrass himself even further in front of his customer, so he simply walked back to his desk. “How can I assist you today?” he questioned, forcing a smile.

“Forget about me!” the silver-haired man exclaimed, his accent strong as ever. “ _You’re_ the one in need of help!” 

Hey...what’s wrong?” he calmly queried when the other turned away and bit his lip, silent. “You can tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” the black-haired boy answered. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not, but okay.” the taller man simply shrugged. “What time did you go to bed last night?”

“I _think_ that I might have passed around four…?” Yuuri pondered, scratching the back of his neck. “All I know is that I woke up on the floor this morning.”

“Unbelievable…” the other whispered in bewilderment.

The Russian man couldn’t discern the florist’s features for the life of him. It didn’t help that he was terrible at comforting people in times of need. He desperately wanted to help Yuuri, but his emotions and state of mind were like an impregnable fortress.

“Hey, if you’re upset about no one coming in,” he carefully began, hoping to have found one of the sources of the boy’s unwellness. “It’s ‘cause you’re supposed to be closed today.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” the Japanese boy suddenly shot up at him, eyes wide.

“Yeah, it says it right here!” the blue-eyed man pointed at the opening hours and read out “Monday: Closed.”

When he turned back to face the shorter boy, he gasped in shock. The latter was holding his head between his hands, elbows propped on the table, biting his lip. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he took small, shaky breaths.

“Hey, no, no, no, don’t you cry,” Victor softly pleaded, panicking, and approached the black-haired boy. He compared Yuuri to an incredibly rare and beautiful flower that lived in such terrible conditions, it has begun to wither, slowly discarding its petals. His job was now to take care of that flower, temporarily, at the very least.

“Would you like a glass of water?” he asked, but caught himself upon realization. “Oh right, I don’t even know where the water is, oh my God…” 

“Maybe we could go for a walk? Walks are fun!” he suggested after a short reflection. The silver-haired man turned to the window and saw the Capharnaum raging outside. “Actually, scratch that, the weather is shit,” he added on, half-whispering.

He slightly crouched to meet the other’s eyes. “Please, talk to me,” he gently spoke, placing a hand on the table. “What would you like me to do?”

The Japanese boy looked up at the taller man. “You...don’t have to do anything,” he softly smiled, wiping away his unwept tears. “Just...let _me_ help you, okay?”

“Okay…” the blue-eyed man smiled in return. “Well, I initially came here to catch up on that bouquet you made for me.”

“Oh?” Yuuri inquired, curious. “So what did she say?”

“Well, to give you a bit of context,” Victor began. “She got quite upset about me being late.”

“As one does, go on” the boy commented, standing up.

“But when I gave her the bouquet,” the other went on, excited. “She turned into a _completely_ different person! She loved it, I tell you!”

“Wow, that's actually quite comforting, not gonna lie,” the florist muttered. “Though _why_ couldn't you come in just a bit earlier?” He inquired, watching Victor get progressively more and more flustered. “Like, let's say... _two weeks ago_?”

“I'm sorry, okay?” the latter pleaded, clasping his hands together. “I just have a _terrible_ memory!”

“Apology reluctantly accepted,” the Japanese boy sighed. “And I'm sorry too. For... _everything_ you had to withstand from the moment you walked in here.”

“Though it was a painfully confusing experience,” the Russian man spoke, a sly smile on his lips. “There's one way you could redeem your sins.”

“Indeed?” the dark-eyed boy queried, matching the other's playful expression. “And what would that be?”

Victor suddenly placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, who almost pulled away on instinct, but didn't budge. They looked directly into each other's eyes, both trying to discern what the other was thinking. The black-haired boy felt a slight blush creeping up his face, scared that the silver-haired man would notice it, which made him blush even more.

Even though there was a desk separating them, there were barely a few inches between their faces, and it would take so little to close that gap, but neither dared nor wanted.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” the taller man calmly spoke, slightly squeezing the other’s shoulders. “You’re gonna go home, take a nice, warm shower, make yourself a cup of hot tea, and go the hell to sleep!” 

“But, consider this:” Yuuri argued. “The weather is terrible and I might die on my way home, and I hope you wouldn’t want that, eh?”

“Consider this instead:” the blue-eyed man replied. “I have a car.”

“Oh.”

They rode in complete silence. 

The florist was dreamily looking out the window, speaking up only to instruct Victor on which turn to take every now and then. He wasn’t exactly used to driving with other people or driving for that matter. 

The blue-eyed man, on the other hand, attempted conversation, but the shorter boy only responded with hums or three-word sentences, not in the mood for small talk, but the voices and noises in his head easily made up for the quietude of the car.

They soon pulled up close to a housing agglomeration, the buildings circling a little park and playground. White paths surrounded the structures, merging with the sidewalk. Trees and flowerbeds were placed here and there, creating a nice effect of nature.

“So, this is where you live, huh?” Victor asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“What, did you expect me to live in a bomb shelter?” the Japanese boy shot back with unexpected and unintended spite. He softly slapped himself on the forehead. “Sorry, that came out too harsh.”

“Well, to be fair,” the Russian man began, a grin forming on his features. “At first, I thought you lived in the back room of the store or something like that.”

“I did consider it, not gonna’ lie,” the black-haired boy snickered. “But then I realized I could afford an actual apartment, so here I am.” They both simultaneously broke into laughter, like they’ve known each other for years and not just a few weeks. 

As Yuuri exited the car, he thanked the taller man and bid him farewell. The latter only smiled and waved him back. He watched the dark-eyed boy make his way towards one of the buildings, open the door and walk in. Having made sure that he arrived at his destination, he made a u-turn and drove towards home.

He was definitely coming back to that flower shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor's back! Back again!
> 
> So, it seems like I finally figured out where I want the story to go, which is relieving, because that means me spending less time on trying to figure things out and more time actually writing! Honestly, I'm planning for this story to be quite long, so please stick around!
> 
> Thank you~


	5. One Dog, Two Dogs...

“ _Vitya_ , are you ready yet?” Katherine inquired, buckling up the leash on her snow-white pomeranian with great difficulty, as the pet bounced up and down around the hallway in anticipation of a well-deserved walk. “ _Pushok,_ calm down, won’t you?” she huffed to her dog and let out a large sigh of relief when the deed was done. She turned around and spotted her fiancé tying up the laces of his boots, yet his dog was nowhere to be seen. 

“Where’s Makka?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “We were supposed to walk the dogs tonight.” 

The man slapped himself on the forehead in dismay. “Damn it, I forgot,” he exclaimed. “Makkachin! Come ‘ere!”

A joyful _bork_ , a pitter-patter of paws against the floor, and a soft ringing of a bell preceded the grand arrival of a mid-sized brown poodle. It made its way towards its owner and sat in front of him, a questioning expression on its snoot.

“You wanna go for a walk, yeah?” Victor playfully teased, ruffling the dog’s head. “Of course you do, what a good boy you are!” At the mention of the word _walk_ , both puppies were beside themselves from excitement, running around the hallway, their leashes half-on. The woman looked at the blue-eyed man in admonition, but he only laughed at her exaggerated pouty expression.

“Look at what you’ve done,” Katherine reprimanded, wiping sweat off her forehead. “At this rate, we’ll never get out…”

However, she was wrong, because less than ten minutes later, they were all outside, walking hand in hand. Though the late days of March already gave in to early April, the air was still somewhat chilly, and the weather was very unpredictable. Today was some sort of a lucky day because not a single cloud could be seen in the slowly darkening sky. The sun hasn’t shone its last just yet, still lingering in anticipation of twilight.

“So, where should we go today?” Katherine questioned, slightly pulling on her leash, as Pushok decided that a pile of frozen mud would be a perfect place to call home. “I’m honestly a little tired of the dog park behind the apartment building…”

“Yeah, so am I,” Victor admitted, shivering a little. He may or may not have underestimated just how cold an spring’s evening could be, choosing to wear only a light leather jacket. Katherine, however, somehow managed to incorporate fashionable and warm clothing in her outfit, and he could see that she was totally comfortable, unlike him. 

“Y’know, we could always go to that park over 5th avenue,” he suggested, zipping up his jacket to its highest. “I hear it’s been renovated over autumn, _and_ it’s dog-friendly.”

“Oh, that seems interesting!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure that Pushok and Makka would love a change of scenery, right?” The dogs didn’t reply, busy sniffing out just about everything their muzzle could reach, and pulling on their leash if their object of interest wasn’t close enough.

At first, the couple walked in quietude, interrupted only by an occasional ‘woof’, often followed by a light reproach from either one of them. Then, a block or two after, Katherine spoke up, no longer withstanding the silence.

“So...have you been to the podiatrist yet?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice. “About when you could get back to...you know…”

Victor only passed an arm around her shoulder and softly smiled in response. She was significantly shorter than he himself was, so she looked up to face him with puppy eyes. “You'll get to come back, won’t you?” the woman muttered hopefully, trying to discern her fiancé’s emotions. 

He ran a hand through his hair. “They’re still unsure about it,” the man carefully chose his words and squeezed the brunette’s free hand. “But they are optimistic, so at least there’s that.”

She softly humphed, and a slight pout formed on her face. She would’ve given anything to see Victor with a gold medal in hand again, or out with his sports buddies, instead of being holed up at home day after day.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he softly assured, grinning widely. “I can already do some singles or doubles without hurting myself!” 

She sighed and leaned against her lover. “I just want you to be happy, _Vitya,_ ” she whispered. “And you being on your computer 24/7 doesn’t seem to make you happy…”

“Well, it can’t be helped that I have a good sense of fashion,” Victor chuckled. “And I do have quite a few commissions left to complete.” 

As soon as he had said that, they realized that their destination was but a few yards away. They could already hear the lively squealing of playful children, running each way but loose, their parents attempting to keep a close watch on them, lest they might get hurt. Others were walking their dogs, carefully maintaining a safe distance from each other, as to not intrude on their pets. 

The couple decided to step off the main path, turning onto a smaller trail instead, where the pavement gradually became more and more narrow, until there was just enough room for all four of them. Lively trees surrounded their field of view, benches were neatly placed here, and there, several feet away from one another. The pair decided to enjoy their walk to the fullest and began strolling, hand in hand.

* * *

Yuuri sighed contently as he locked the doors of the flower shop. Today had been a great day for business: he was able to sell three full-priced bouquets and had just been commissioned for an upcoming wedding. His thoughts raced as he imagined the story he could string together using seemingly insignificant meanings an array of flowers would provide into a coherent narrative of the couple’s life.

He looked around, watching as the sun slowly changed the colour of the evening sky into a beautiful shade of pinkish-purple, inching closer and closer to a deep blue every passing minute. The air was quite refreshing, and the Japanese boy knew he shouldn’t let this rare moment of clarity go to waste. A walk in the twilight and fresh air, after being cooped up all day inside the store, would definitely be beneficial to help him clear his head.

He decided the nearest park was a good place to start his stroll, and made his way through the neighborhood, walking narrow sidewalks and colourful alleyways brimming with the fresh buds of spring flowers on the ground and on balconies overhead. Each new species he would see, he would mentally piece together a tale featuring all of their meanings.

In no time, he arrived at the corner of 5th avenue, the blooming trees swaying in the calming breeze passing through the air. Yuuri makes his way through the park, observing the recently planted flowers and saplings the city added to the greenery this year. Small maples and birches grew new leaves surrounded by patches of daffodils, hyacinths, and a few purple croci. 

As he enjoyed the scenery surrounding him, the young florist made his way to a fairly secluded bench under a weeping willow, which wouldn’t be ideal for reading had it not been for the street lamp installed to its right. Yuuri sat down and immediately immersed himself in the universe of his book, a story he had meant to finish reading quite some time ago, yet he’d never had the time or perhaps had never _taken_ the time to.

As he continued his read, Yuuri heard barking in the distance but paid no close attention to it. But when it got louder and louder, he took his eyes of the tome to see two dogs, one a large fluffy brown mass of fur, the other a smaller white blur of energy. They were being walked by a couple, one individual having a more petite figure, fashionably dressed in a white wool crop top, and black jeans covered by a cream coloured jacket, pink cherry blossoms in her hair adding a bright accent to her outfit. Yuuri moved his gaze to her partner, and immediately, he recognized his platinum hair and joyful face. It was Victor.

“Oh, look, it’s Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, exaggeratedly waving his free arm to catch the boy's attention. “Yuuri, hello!” 

“Who?” Katherine asked, turning to her lover in confusion.

The man didn’t grant her a response. Instead, he gave her Makkachin’s leash and ran off to the weeping willow.

“Hey!” he cheerfully called out. Yuuri only gave him a weak wave in response. He wasn’t sure he could handle a proper human conversation at the moment but shut his book anyway. It was a matter of politeness.

“Hello, Victor,” he smiled, standing to his feet and shaking off any remains of dry grass that might have decided to stick to his jeans. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m pretty good,” Victor said. ”Just walking the dogs with my fiancée.” As soon as he had said those words, his eyes lit up, like he remembered something crucial. 

“Oh, right!” he exclaimed. “You haven’t met her, haven’t you?” 

They both looked at the woman in question, who was determinately advancing towards them, both leashes in hand. Her face was never-moving, a resting scowl carved on her features. Her hair gently fluttered left and right with her every step. Something in her mannerisms deeply unsettled Yuuri.

“Uh, no, I don’t think I have,” he uttered. “But, I wouldn’t want to bother either of you! I was just thinking of going home, actually.”

“Nonsense!” Victor replied, slightly patting the other’s shoulder. “You’re no bother, and besides, she wanted to meet you.”

“ _Vitya!_ ” the woman called out before the florist could even react. “What the _hell_? You leave me hanging and run off just like that?” She gave him both leashes and crossed her arms.

Yuuri gulped. Victor didn’t seem to be surprised by her burst of anger, but he certainly was. She seemed so authoritative. No, _intimidating_.

“Sorry, love!” her fiancé apologized, clasping his hands together. “I just haven’t seen him in a while.” 

“Who’s he, anyway?” she asked irritably, almost ignoring the florist’s presence.

“He’s the one that made your bouquet, remember?” Victor replied. “The one that you loved.”

“Oh, yeah!” the woman gasped, stretching out the ‘o’ and the ‘e’. Her frown instantly gave way to a large smile, exposing her perfect teeth. She turned to Yuuri.

He was quite perplexed by her sudden change of attitude. It’s like she turned into a completely different person.

“Nice to meet you!” she said and stretched out her hand. “I’m Katherine Lebedeva, but you can call me _Katya.”_

The florist took her hand and shook it. “I’m Katsuki, Yuuri, nice to meet you too.”

“Yuuri, huh?” she responded with the same reaction as Victor had when they first met. “Sounds awfully familiar…”

“I wouldn’t know where you could’ve seen me, sorry” the Japanese boy apologized.

“I have a knack for remembering people, though, so I’m pretty sure.” Katherine insisted.

“Well, I don’t!” Yuuri said, louder than he had intended, much to his surprise. He immediately bowed in apology. “I’m sorry, I really can’t remember. I can’t remember a lot of things. I just sit around in my store 24/7, and barely go out anymore. It’s not like I don’t try though! I really do! It’s just that I can’t manage my time or energy, and it’s really hard for me, but I can’t stop myself from procrastinating, and it makes me even more anxious, which makes me procrastinate even more, which makes me that much more anxious, and so on in a loop, until I physically can’t take it anymore, and I just break down crying, and then it starts all over again...”

Yuuri only just now had realized that he was rambling all this time. He bit his lip and shyly looked up at the couple. They seemed...puzzled at best. They looked at him like he was made of glass, and could break at any moment. 

A few seconds have passed, an uncomfortable silence settled around the three people. It almost stretched itself into several minutes, but Katherine suddenly placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, making him jump.

“ _Так_ !” she exclaimed and whipped out her notebook from her purse. “ _Ты ведь говоришь по цветочьи_?”

“E-eh?” he uttered, perplexed.

“Ah, _блин_ , wrong language,” she shook her head. “You do speak ‘flower’, correct?”

Yuuri let out a light chuckle. “I guess I do?” 

“So, I’m writing a novel, okay?” Katherine eagerly began, grabbing Yuuri’s arm and leading him down the hill, towards a nearby bench. He barely had the time to throw Victor a disoriented look, before she had sat him down and flipped her notebook open. “It’s about an outgoing florist falling in love with a shy bookkeeper.” 

“Oh, that sure sounds interesting,” Yuuri said, scratching the back of his neck. “Though, I fail to see how I could help.”

“Well, the thing is,” she said. “The florist gifts the young woman all sorts of bouquets with special messages hidden within them.”

“I see,” he nodded understandingly. “Then, if I may ask, what would you like them to convey?”

* * *

Victor still stood atop the hill, several feet away from where Yuuri and his fiancée were chatting. She looked so enthusiastic about her work in progress. Her eyes glittered with passion as her features moved with her every word. He couldn’t quite discern their conversation from where he was situated, but he could comprehend that she was extremely satisfied with what she was hearing. Yuuri had mostly been listening to her, sliding in a word or two only every so often, when it was absolutely necessary.

Katherine was the complete and total opposite of Yuuri. Victor chuckled at his disheveled state. He seemed lost, clearly not used to such fervent individuals as Katherine, judging by the silent plea of help he’d thrown at him when the woman dragged him away. Victor secretly found it cute and hilarious at the same time. He watched them speak for a minute or two, then sighed and turned to his dogs.

“At least you guys won’t leave me alone, huh?” he said, crouching and caressing both pets on their heads. They both surrounded him, begging for attention, so he sat down on the almost dry ground and let them roam free over him. 

Unfortunately, it was a dire mistake, because both dogs were covered in mud and grass remains, soiling Victor’s jeans. He huffed in frustration and leaned against the weeping willow. He watched as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, and with it, gone the last traces of warmth in the air.

A sudden gust of wind pierced his skin, sending cold shivers down his spine, goosebumps spreading all over his body. He clung to his too thin of a coat for dear life and mentally cursed himself for not thinking of wearing warmer clothing for an evening walk. 

As the dogs were no longer on him but wandering around the hill, he decided to stand up, lest he might catch a nasty cold. He glanced at Katherine and Yuuri, who were still conversing, with no clear intent to stop. He found it funny that Katya had become angered at him when he had run off for less than a few minutes, yet found it perfectly acceptable to leave him alone for almost half an hour now. He sighed and looked at the lonely moon, who had just emerged in the ever so darkening sky, just as lonely as he was. 

It was going to be a long night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Fifth chapter finally out! It's a bit longer than the others, so I hope you enjoy it!  
> Thank you for reading!


	6. The "What" Style?

Today was somewhat of a tedious day for Yuuri. Light rain softly crashed against his shop window, the sound gently echoing throughout the store. He was sitting at his work table, leaned over his sketchbook, desperately trying to come up with a reasonable flower arrangement that would satisfy a certain commissioner’s needs. It wasn’t exactly an easy task either, as he had to somehow convey different types of love that his client felt towards his significant other, one of them being sensual love, giving the florist the most difficulty. How could he express something so bold and passionate, when he had never actually gotten nearly as close to anyone to even begin feeling it? 

He sighed and fiddled with his hair in annoyance. It didn’t really help that his only romantic relationship was just about the worst thing that has ever happened to him. At least that’s what Phichit told him, anyway. He, himself shockingly didn’t remember much of it, apart from some vague, seemingly innocent details, like the fact that his boyfriend’s name was Ezra, or that he absolutely hated him. Either way, uncovering unhealed wounds and reminiscing of the past wasn't going to help Yuuri in this situation whatsoever. Better just to start from scratch.

Except he didn’t want to start over, he had already spent over an hour over this damn arrangement and he was going to finish it. He huffed in frustration, grabbed his eraser, and began rubbing off the flowers that had no place in such a “mature” bouquet, like the daisy. Why did he even think that putting daisies in there would be a good idea? 

“Man, aren’t you one hell of an idiot…” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t even look at his sketchbook anymore, now that most of the drawing has been smudged beyond recognition, with eraser shavings all over the place. He was so irritated at his own inability to complete basic commissions that he had probably done dozens of times, and yet his inspiration seemed to have quit on him, which vexed him even more so. He couldn’t take this anymore.

“Screw this!” he yelled to no one in particular and flung his pencil against the wall. It landed just an inch or two from the main entrance, startling a familiar newcomer, who had just opened the door and immediately squealed upon nearly receiving the small projectile in his face. “Oh, sweet, merciful Buddha, Yuuri!” the tan boy cried out, aghast, grabbing his chest. “I know you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, but for the love of God, could ya chill?”

“Oh, my God, I am _so_ sorry! ” Yuuri exclaimed, running over to his friend. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’ll live,” Phichit said, ruffling the other’s hair, earning himself a giggle. “But what’s with you?”

“Oh, it’s just a really frustrating commission I have to complete,” Yuuri explained, scratching the back of his neck. “And...I guess I lashed out.”

“Well, I can see that much,” Phichit chuckled and took off his wet jacket. “Maybe I could help?”

“By all means, go ahead,” Yuuri shrugged and picked up his discarded pencil. “I gotta’ make a bouquet that conveys _sensual_ love, ain’t that great?”

“Hoo, boy, that’s a fun one,” Phichit grinned, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Have ya’ tried roses yet?”

The florist looked at his friend, his gaze blank. “I...didn’t, actually,” he uttered and sighed. “Well, crap, guess I gotta’ do this again…”

They decided to work together because Yuuri desperately needed someone level-headed to keep him sane, or he might just throw something much more fragile into the wall. Minutes stretched into hours, as the two boys steadily perfected the floral arrangement, stopping only for Yuuri to serve an eventual customer. 

Sometime around one or two o’clock past noon, Phichit suggested that he should step out and get them both some lunch. Though Yuuri didn’t feel like eating, his friend insisted, arguing that he’s “only skin n’ bones” and that he’d “better eat something before he collapses”, and Yuuri gave in.

As soon as his friend had left, he was left alone with no work to be done. In fact, his commission was _finally_ finished, not without Phichit’s help, of course. Shaped like a heart, it was a beautiful mix of coral roses, red tulips, orange lilies, and just a touch of Queen Anne’s Lace. Yuuri was quite happy with his work, and even more so that he didn’t have to touch it ever again.

He took a small walk around the store and decided to rearrange some floral accessories that he felt were out of place, like the cluster of various fragrances that were almost dumped on a shelf near the cash register. He picked them up, one by one, and gently began setting them by alphabetical order. When he was done, his gaze fell on the baskets of flowers who hung above his head. He figured they required watering and retreated into the backroom for a watering can.

It took him longer than he expected, as he couldn’t actually find what he was looking for, yet he could’ve sworn that he left the can right there last time. He sighed in annoyance and continued his quest for the watering can, accidentally shutting the back door.

In those circumstances, he had little to no way of hearing the ringing of the bell, indicating that someone had just come in. He had only figured that another person was in the shop when he had heard them calling out “Anybody here?” with a thick french accent. He had immediately rushed out the back room and quickly apologized to his customer, finally taking a closer look at them.

It was a man in his mid-twenties, he stood tall and proud, showing off his bright-red “Canada” sports jacket. Yuuri couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they might have met before but forced himself to shrug it off as nonsense. The newcomer turned towards him and his eyes widened, threatening to jump out of his skull.

“Katsuki Yuuri?” he exclaimed, aghast. The florist didn’t even have time to reply before the newcomer spoke again. “Damn, haven’t seen you since Skate Canada, two years ago! Where have ya been?”

“Here.” Yuuri simply answered after what it felt like hours of awkward silence. He gently sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry...who are you?”

“You don’t even remember me?” the man asked, somewhat sad. “I know I scored below you last time, but to think that I’m that forgettable to you...” 

“N-no! It’s not that!” the florist interjected apologetically. “I just...can’t remember a lot of things, okay? Don’t take it personally.”

“Well, you did kinda fall off that podium, when they were handing out the awards…” the newcomer pondered for a few moments before chuckling. 

Yuuri froze. “I did _what_?” 

“I mean, yeah! You were just standing there and all of a sudden you weren’t anymore. There was so much screaming, like what the hell.” the man said matter-of-factly, a light smile on his lips. “But, you’re good now, right?”

Yuuri didn’t respond. He forced himself to take deep breaths and clutched his shirt. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have done that. Even if he had participated in such a competition, which was already highly unlikely in itself, there was no way for him to hit the podium, nor collapse in front of thousands of people. The man was certainly lying. There was no doubt about it...was there?

“I...didn’t catch your name, though.” he casually said, a few seconds later.

“Oh!” the man exclaimed. He closed his eyes, took a weird stance, and gestured two ‘J’s with his fingers. “I’m Canada’s star skater,” he announced proudly. “Jean-Jacques Leroy! And it’s J-J style!”

“Sorry, the ‘what’ style?” Yuuri quietly asked, beyond confused.

“J-J style!” Jean-Jacques replied. “It’s an abbreviation for my name!”

“I see...” the florist pondered. “Come to think of it, you do seem vaguely familiar…Were we friends before?”

“I knew you didn’t forget me!” JJ said joyfully, patting the other’s shoulder. “We were best buddies, I’ll have you know!”

Somehow, that perspective didn’t seem all that likely to Yuuri, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to disappoint the man further. After all, he did seem genuinely happy to see him, so that was something that he could appreciate. He let out a small chuckle and quickly retreated to his desk. This “JJ” must have come here for a specific reason, no?

“So, what can I help you with today?” Yuuri asked, folding his arms on his desk. “You didn’t come here just to see me, eh?”

“Well, you see,” JJ said after pondering for a few seconds. “I need some sort of decoration that would represent my awesomeness!”

The florist raised an eyebrow, certain to have misunderstood. “You need _what_?”

“Something to show the world how awesome I am!” the other clarified. “Like...a wreath! Or, better yet, a crown!”

“R-right…” Yuuri muttered, somewhat amused. “So, a crown that would represent your… ’awesomeness’, then?”

“Yeah!” JJ nodded. “I want to wear it when I skate, so it brings me luck and victory!”

“Umm, if I may,” Yuuri began with a smile. “I am by _no means_ an expert on the subject, but wouldn’t it be bothersome to skate with a plant on your head?”

JJ looked slightly taken aback. “The hell do you mean, ‘not an expert’, Katsuki?” he asked, incredulous. “You scored above me for like...three times in a row at some point, and you didn’t even get the gold, dang it!”

“I...did?” 

“You don’t even remember _that_?” JJ exclaimed, eyes wide.

“No, I really don’t!” Yuuri said, confused. “As I said, I can’t remember many things, nothing to do with you or _anyone else_ , really.”

That was a lie.

It had very much to do with a certain someone. 

JJ sighed in frustration. “You must have hit your head very hard then…”

“Guess so…” the florist muttered before swiftly changing the subject. “For your crown, might I suggest fake flowers?”

“Huh?”

“I still stand by the fact that a real flower crown would be tiresome to skate with, not to mention that it would quickly wither,” Yuuri explained. “But a fake flower won’t bring you that much trouble.”

“I suppose you’re right,” JJ agreed. “So, what kind of flowers would you have?”

“If we’re talking glory or… ’awesomeness’” Yuuri pondered, taking a look at his catalog. “Then I could always arrange a laurel leaf crown.”

“Leaf crown?” the other grumbled, puzzled. Then his eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh, is it like that one emperor guy?”

“Yeah, something like that!”

“As long as it manages to properly represent my amazingness and style, I’ll take it!” he exclaimed.

While the florist was completing the crown, he could feel a question burn his lips. It was his chance to get to learn more about his past. Like it or not, he was going to face it someday, and maybe now would be the place to start?

He took a big breath. 

“Umm, JJ,” he carefully began. “Can I ask you something?”

The other hummed and looked up from his phone.

“What happened at the last Skate Canada?” he asked, trying to suppress his shaking hands. “What happened two years ago?”

JJ seemed somewhat confused. “Why do you ask?” he replied. “Weren’t you there...oh...”

He took a few seconds to reflect. 

“Well, first of all, you freaking nailed your freaking Short Program and I just had to flub that one freaking quad and get second place, because my freaking feet wouldn’t freaking listen!” he rambled on, fueled by the bitter taste of loss. “And it freaking pissed me off, so I swore that I’d best you at the Free Program no matter what, but-”

“W-wait a sec,” Yuuri interjected. “Though I am genuinely sorry that you didn’t get the score you wanted, I actually meant to ask about what had happened to _me_.”

“Oh.” JJ simply replied, before carrying on. “Well, since you did get first place with the SP, you had to be the last to perform the FP, right?”

“I guess?”

“You were right after me. I thought that I had the audience wrapped around my finger, but, alas, misfortune struck me again…” he said, his voice filled with sorrow. He sighed deeply. “You seemed...strange from the moment you stepped on the ice, at least to me.”

“Strange?” Yuuri said, incredulous. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is you looked _really_ different from your usual self,” JJ explained, scratching his head. “You looked _sick_.”

“Why would I be sick, though?” Yuuri pondered. “I don’t think that I would take the risk to perform while feeling unwell…”

“Well, you did,” JJ replied, matter-of-factly. “And yet, in that condition of yours, you managed to get away with only two missed jumps, so that got you third place…” he grumbled, hints of jealousy in his voice.

“But, you said something about me collapsing.” Yuuri reminded. 

“Oh, that,” the other said, his features forming into an expression that the florist couldn’t decipher. “As I said, they were handing out the awards to you guys, and you just barely took yours, when you decided to have a narcoleptic fit and take a swan dive down the podium. Obviously, everyone was surprised as all hell, there was screaming, crying, all that ruckus. Then the medics came and took you away, and we never saw you again, so yeah.”

“I see…” Yuuri simply replied, biting his lip. Though his stance seemed relaxed, his mind ravaged on with a hurricane of thoughts. He might have already known that he had gotten injured badly enough to retire, but he had never figured out the details, as he carefully isolated himself from this past life, laying low so he wouldn’t be found. 

Moreover, he completely lost interest in skating and hasn't touched the ice in just about two years. He had completely disappeared from the world that he used to hold so dear.

And yet, he was beginning to experience these new sparks of passion that slowly beckoned him down the rabbit hole of forgotten memories. He stood at the very edge of that bottomless pit, contemplating whether or not to take that fatal step. 

He soon finished with the crown and handed it over to JJ. The latter seemed quite satisfied with it, ranting on and on how ‘awesome’ he was going to look like on the ice and how he was going to ‘win whatever the cost’. They quickly exchanged goods and JJ had bid Yuuri farewell, saying that he hoped to see him about soon. The latter only waved as his customer walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

Once again surrounded by the overwhelming silence, the florist sighed and decided to carry on with whatever task he was occupied with before JJ came in. What was it again? Right, the quest for the dreaded water can. 

As he made his way towards the backroom once more, he was unfortunate enough to trip on an unidentified object, almost flying into the nearby shelf. He looked down and realized that the thing he stumbled upon was, wouldn’t you know it, the water can. Huffing in frustration, he picked it up and began watering flowers.

Soon enough, he heard the ringing of the doorbell, followed by a familiar voice.

“Hey, sorry it took so long!” Phichit apologized, handing the take-out to Yuuri. “There was just a _really_ big line over at Thai Express.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, don’t worry!” Yuuri assured, helping his friend with his jacket. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’,” Phichit simply replied. “My treat.”

Yuuri was about to protest, but Phichit swiftly cut him off with a ‘don’t you even try’ and ruffled his hair, which made the other chuckle lightly.

“So, what did I miss?” he eventually mused, taking a mouthful of spiced noodles.

“Eh, nothin’ much, really,” Yuuri said, scratching the back of his head. “Though, I do wanna ask you something…”

“Shoot.”

“Do you happen to know a certain...JJ?” he carefully asked.

Phichit nearly choked on a piece of shrimp.

Coughing violently, he reached for the glass of water that was handed to him by a very worried Yuuri, who was beginning to regret this entire conversation.

After he had calmed down, Phichit suddenly grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “How did you know of that name?” he asked, shaking him lightly. “Did you remember something? Or someone, rather? How much do you know? Come on, spit it out!” 

“E-eh, so you do know him…?” Yuuri replied, taken aback by the other’s reaction.

“Of course I do!” Phichit said, letting Yuuri go. “But _why_ JJ?”

“Whaddya’ mean?” 

“I mean, why did you remember _him_ , out of all people?” Phichit inquired, cupping his face with his hands. “Why not someone more important, like, let’s say, _Victor_? _”_

“What does _Victor_ have to do with _any_ of this?” Yuuri shot back, genuinely confused. “As far as I know, the man’s not even involved in skating!”

“Not _that_ Victor, dang it,” Phichit replied. “The other one!”

“So, there’s _two_ Victors now?” 

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, exasperated. “They might be one and the same, for all we know!”

“I’m _fairly freakin’_ sure that I’ve never met “this” Victor before, through…” Yuuri insisted.

“Nevermind that,” Phichit interjected, shaking his head. “Where did JJ come from?”

“Oh, he actually came by here,” Yuuri said, taking a sip of his ice drink. ”He was quite surprised to see me, to say the least.”

“Did he say anything?” Phichit asked, taking a bite.

“Well, I did ask him what happened two years ago, at the last Skate Canada.” Yuuri simply replied.

Phichit almost choked again.

“What?” he exclaimed, catching his breath. “The heck did he answer?”

“Apparently, I got in first with my...uh, SP and third with my...FP,” Yuuri pondered, recalling JJ’s words. “Oh, and I also collapsed on the ice.”

Phichit cupped his face with his hands and let out an exasperated ‘ohmygod’. He looked at his friend, whose facial expression was unreadable, weirdly oscillating between ‘extreme panic’ and ‘extreme apathy’.

“You good?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess…” Yuuri shrugged. “I mean, I kinda expected it, so there’s nothing much I could do about it…”

“I see…” Phichit uttered. “You gotta close soon, wanna go out?”

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to publish this chapter, since I worked quite hard on it, so enjoy! As you see, I'm beginning to include new characters gradually as the story progresses further and worry not, I didn't forget about Yurio~
> 
> If you like this story, please give it kudos and leave comments, so I'll see that you guys actually want me to continue. It would mean the world to me!


	7. Coffee Cups...

Yuuri was startled by the sudden ring of the doorbell, indicating that a new customer had made their appearance in his store. He looked up from his work in progress and smiled widely when he had spotted the newcomer’s bright silver hair and joyful features. 

“Yuuri! Good morning!” Victor exclaimed. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Morning,” Yuuri softly said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks,” Victor replied, handing the florist a cup of coffee from the café across the street. “I thought I’d get you this on my way, so here.”

“O-oh?” Yuuri gasped, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Victor waved, tossing the shorter male a few packets of sugar. “Besides, I got myself something too, I uh...drank it on my way here.” he added on, his voice growing more and more flustered.

“If you say so...” Yuuri hummed, taking a sip of his beverage. 

_ Latte, nice. _

“How can I help you today?” he asked, setting his cup on the desk.

“So, here’s the thing.” Victor said, walking up to him, careful as to not to trip on flower pots. “I need something to compliment this.” He took his sketchbook out of his bag. Yuuri silently watched as the silver haired man flipped through the pages, revealing  _ dozens  _ of designs of all shapes and sizes. Carefully arranged colour palettes flashed in front of his eyes, leaving him in speechless awe. Was Victor always  _ this _ good at art?

He eventually came to a halt on a page that wasn’t like the rest. Unlike the other designs, which conveyed some kind of light suits and costumes, this one was a full-on  _ dress _ . It was arranged in such a manner that it vaguely resembled a pristine pink and white lily. It was barely long enough to graze the model’s knees, its silk skirt dissolving into lace. The petals covered the bust area, leaving room for a decollete. The bare back was laced with supposedly filaments of the flower, tying into a bow just below the nape.

“Th-that’s absolutely gorgeous, Victor!” Yuuri exclaimed, looking up to him.”I didn’t know you were such a good artist!”

Victor looked a bit taken aback by the florist’s sincere reaction. A slight hint of red momentarily graced his cheeks. “Uhm, thank you…” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck. 

“So, you need something that would go with this dress?” Yuuri asked, snapping him out of his little trance. “I’m guessing it’s for Katherine, yeah?”

“Yep, it’s her birthday soon,” Victor nodded. “So, I’d like to give her something nice.”

“Glad you came to me!” Yuuri smiled. “I’m assuming you’d like another bouquet?”

“Actually, I was thinking of something more long-lasting,” Victor replied. “Like...a flower pot, or something like that.”

“I see,” Yuuri hummed, suddenly growing confidant. “Though, you do realize that you’re going to have to tend to them, right?” he asked with a sly smile on his lips.

“Huh? Of course I know that!” Victor exclaimed, flustered. “Why  _ wouldn’t  _ I know that?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri shrugged, smirking. “You just strike me as someone who couldn’t keep a  _ cactus _ alive, even if your life depended on it.”

“Okay, first of all, that happened only  _ once _ !” Victor replied, sending Yuuri into a fit of laughter.

It was the first time he’d heard Yuuri laugh like that. It sounded so melodious and pretty, that he had momentarily forgotten about his wounded pride and inability to keep plants alive. He began laughing as well. In those kinds of moments, he really felt like there was something oddly comforting about Yuuri, something... _ familiar _ .

“Seems like I was right on the mark, eh?” Yuuri spoke between hiccups. Victor closed his eyes and nodded, unable to answer. They both took big slow breaths to calm down, slightly chuckling when their gazes met again.

“Uhm, so, where were we, again?” Victor eventually asked.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Yuuri chuckled. “I was telling you that you’d have to tend to your flowers.”

“Jeez, can we get over it?” Victor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m a mess, I know.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Yuuri waved, taking a sip of his latte. “If anything, I’m an even bigger mess, so…”

“Nah, I doubt it,” Victor replied, shaking his head. “It’s so nice and pretty here, there’s no way you’re that disorganized…”

He got swiftly interrupted by Yuuri. 

“Just a few days ago, I spent fifteen minutes looking for a water can, only to end up tripping on it and almost crashing into a shelf.”

“What the heck?” Victor muttered, confused. “I take back my words, we’re both equally chaotic.”

“High five, chaotic buddy.” Yuuri exclaimed, stretching out his hand.

“May the chaos live on forever!” Victor added on and high-fived the florist.

They both broke into a small fit of laughter.

“Back to the flowers, eh?” Yuuri spoke after a few minutes had passed. Seeing as how the other nodded in response, he walked around the shelves, over to the checkout, and took out a small catalogue from one of his drawers. He flipped the pages for a brief moment, stopping somewhere in the middle.

“Hey, Victor, come here,” he called out. “What do you think of this?”

He handed the journal over to the taller man and pointed at one of the flower arrangements. It was a moderately large pot of lilies, organized in such a manner, that their different hues gave an illusion of a gradient, from light pink to dark red. There were other colors available as well, such as the yellow to red gradient, but Yuuri thought that the pink one would suit Victor’s dress better.

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing,” Victor said, leaning against the worktable. “I think this will look pretty on our balcony, there’s a lack of greenery on there, not gonna’ lie.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed, nodding. “And the best part, lilies are seasonal flowers!”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?” 

“If taken care of correctly, they’ll get to rebloom next year too!” Yuuri explained. “Though you’d have to keep them alive to see that happen.”

“Ah, that might be an issue,” Victor said, scratching his nape. “So, do I just leave them in the shade and give them water every three weeks?”

Yuuri’s smile instantly gave way to an expression of shock. 

“God, no!” he exclaimed. 

“E-eh…?” Victor muttered, confused. “Then what do I do?”

“Okay, you know what?” Yuuri sighed. “I’ll write you up a list. That way you’ll at least have a fighting chance.”

“Sounds good!” Victor replied. “You could take a page from my sketchbook if you want to.”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri asked. “It looks expensive, I wouldn’t want you to waste any paper.”

“No worries,” Victor waved. “I already have like five unfinished sketchbooks at home.”

“I see,” Yuuri chuckled. “I must say, I’m in a similar position.”

“You draw too?” 

“Y-yes, that’s how I make commissions” he replied, only to be swiftly interrupted by the silver-haired man.

“May I see it?” the latter interjected excitedly.

“Uhm, how about I take care of your order first?” Yuuri suggested nervously. “You must be really busy, I’m sure you have better things to do than hear my rambling…”

“Oh, okay…” Victor replied, somewhat disappointed. He watched as Yuuri retreated to the back room and emerged with a large flower pot. He carefully set it on the floor near the checkout. 

“I hope to God that you have your car,  _ Vic-kun _ ,” he huffed. “It’s fairly heavy, I doubt you’d be able to carry it home.”

Victor’s head suddenly shot up. “Say what?”

“I said, the pot is too heavy to carry home.” Yuuri clarified.

“No, before that.”

“I was hoping you’d have your car.” he repeated, putting his hands on his hips.

“I mean, what did you call me?” Victor asked, a sly smile gracing his lips.

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to be flustered.

“I...didn’t...call you...anything,” he muttered, feeling a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

“If you say so.” Victor shrugged, his smirk never leaving his features.

Yuuri averted his gaze and bit his lip. He tried to carry on with whatever he was going to do next. He made his way towards his work table, walking precisely around Victor instead of asking him to move and grabbed a pen. He then retrieved his own sketchbook and scribbled several bullet points on a blank page, before carefully tearing it out, all in complete and utter silence.

He was very determined to ignore the fact that he had inadvertently given Victor an affectionate nickname. How could he be so careless? What did he call him again,  _ Vic-kun _ ? He sighed in dismay. Could’ve been worse after all…

He swiftly handed the paper to the taller man, who took it and gave it a quick read. Victor squinted at one particular bit and turned to the florist in confusion. 

“What the heck does ‘one inch of water’ mean?” he asked. “I think that you might be confusing two measurement systems there, buddy.”

“It means...what it means, really,” Yuuri chuckled. “It refers to the volume in the pot, depending on its size.”

“I’m gonna’ drown them, aren’t I?” Victor muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“Yep.” the other whispered. “And if or, rather,  _ when _ you do, I’ll take care of them instead, but you won’t be alive to see it!.”

“Eh?!” 

“I said what I said.” he said, an unsettling smile gracing his features. He looked at Victor’s mildly terrified face and sighed.

“It’s really not that hard, you know. You just have to follow the instructions I wrote for you.”

“I’ll try my best.” Victor promised, putting the paper into his bag.

“So, anything else I could help you with?” Yuuri asked, retreating behind the checkout.

“Yes, actually,” Victor replied matter-of-factly, making his way towards the florist. “I might potentially commission you again sometime, so if I might have your business card, that’d be great.”

Yuuri looked somewhat taken aback. 

“I’m sorry, is this a subtle, yet affirmative way of saying that you want my number?” he asked, a sly smile forming on his features.

Now, it was Victor’s turn to be flustered.

“Y-yes,” he simply replied after a few seconds of silence. “Because...I’d like us to keep in touch.”

“How lovely,” Yuuri smiled and handed out his business card. “Though I don’t think it’s fair if I also didn’t have your number, eh?”

“You’re right,” Victor chuckled, reaching into his bag for his wallet. “There you go.” he said and handed his own card over. Yuuri gave it a quick read and gasped.

“You’re a fashion designer?” he asked, aghast. 

“Yeah, I mostly design skating suits.” Victor cheerfully replied. “It’s something that hits close to home.”

“How so?”

“I used to be a skater, you know?” he admitted, a nostalgic expression settling on his features. “The best one in the world, no less.”

“Whoa…” Yuuri whispered in awe. 

_ So he *was* involved in skating. Then, could it be…? _

“But, eh, that’s a long story,” Victor chuckled, his smile turning melancholic. “I doubt you’d wanna hear it, anyway.”

“Oh, but I do!” Yuuri exclaimed, before catching himself. “If...you’re okay with it, that is.”

“Alright,” Victor began. “I started skating around the age of five or so. My parents sincerely wanted me to play hockey or any other ‘tough and manly’ sport, but the sight of me pathetically wobbling around with a hockey stick bigger than myself...changed their mind.”

Yuuri softly chuckled at the last bit.

“I didn’t see the ice as a  _ battlefield,  _ but rather as a  _ stage _ .” Victor explained. “I wanted to show the world just what I could do on that stage. So I began training hard day and night to prove that I was worth it. When my folks saw how good I was turning out, they somehow managed to get in contact with a coach who had agreed to take me under his wing.”

“And is that when your junior career began?” Yuuri asked, finishing the last of his coffee.

“Why, yes, you’re right,” Victor said, surprised. “I thought you didn’t know much about skating.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘not much’,” Yuuri shrugged. “Though, how come you’re not skating anymore?”

“Well, two years ago,” Victor reluctantly replied. “I was practicing at the crack of dawn, and I kind of, injured my foot in the process of attempting a quad-...er, a difficult jump.”

“A quad flip, is that it?” 

“How do you know what that even is?” Victor exclaimed. “I mean, you are correct, but boy am I confused!”

“Chill out, I just have a friend who skates.” Yuuri laughed.

“Oh, really?” Victor said, scratching the back of his neck. “And here I was hoping that...nevermind.” he shook his head.

“Oh, okay then.” Yuuri nodded, somewhat puzzled. His expression quickly shifted to a slight concern. “Will you ever be able to return, though?”

“I honestly don’t know, but it’s looking well!” Victor replied, crossing his fingers.

“Then I’ll look forward to seeing you skate again!” Yuuri said with a little too much enthusiasm, making the other chuckle.

“Hey, might I see your drawings?” Victor carefully asked as Yuuri was processing the flower pot and neatly bagging the supplies.

“I guess you can.” the latter sighed and handed his album to Victor.

He watched as the silver-haired man meticulously flipped through the pages, analysing just about all that there was to analyse. He watched as his expression shifted from awe to surprise, and so on. After what felt like eons, he finally returned the book with an unreadable expression on his features.

“So?” Yuuri nervously asked.

“That was...amazing, really.” Victor replied, running a hand through his hair. “We should really collaborate sometime.”

“Wh-what?” Yuuri exclaimed. “Would you be willing to?”

“Of course,  _ solnyshko _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am back from wherever the hell I was for a month an a half! Hopefully I will have more motivation from now on to continue this project. If you enjoyed, please don't forget to give kudos and comment, because that way I know that you still like this story! 
> 
> As always, see ya!
> 
> P.S: Oh, and solnyshko means "small sun" or "sunshine" in Russian ;)


	8. ...and Party Plans

Victor clumsily fiddled with his apartment keys, softly cursing under his breath when he’d picked the wrong one for the umptieth time. It was already getting late and Katherine would be getting home in less than an hour, and he had until then to make everything _perfect_. The lock finally gave in and he gently pushed the door with his elbow, promptly dropping the bags he was carrying. He was immediately greeted by two large masses of pure fluff, joyfully barking and yapping as they climbed onto his legs.

“Awe, hello, boys,” he chuckled, engulfing the dogs in a big hug. “I missed you too,” he said, before locking the door and discarding his shoes. The pets seemingly had enough of their owner, because they quickly left him for their own endeavors, like napping.

Victor then began rummaging for decorations. His every action was swift and automatic. He had no thoughts in his head, his mind was completely blank.

In a matter of twenty minutes, he’d managed to decorate nearly the entirety of the living room. Colorful fairy lights hung on the walls, accompanied by some loose flowers. Balloons lay on the floor around the furniture or float in the air. He then retrieved a mannequin and placed it in a corner. He carefully dressed it with the now physical version of Katherine’s dress, making sure not to leave any folds or pieces of lint. 

It was perfect, or almost.

One thing was missing. The flower pot. Victor had managed to take good care of the lilies for the few days leading up to Katherine’s birthday. He had also done a moderately good job at hiding it. They rarely use their balcony, so it seemed like an awfully good spot for something so large. He cautiously lifted it and placed it on the coffee table, brushing off any loose leaves. _Now_ , it was perfect.

He plopped down on his couch and let out a large sigh. He was more exhausted than usual, not seeming to be in the mood for any kind of festivities. What was wrong with him today? Everything was fine just a few hours ago, so what was it that made him feel so drained?

He still had a good thirty minutes before Katherine came home. What could he do until then? Cooking supper was an option, and he sure was a decent cook, but his every attempt at lifting himself from the couch bore no results. He sighed again and resolved to order pizza. After all, who didn’t like pizza?

As he ended his call with the local pizzeria, his gaze fell over to Yuuri’s business card sticking out of his wallet. He examined it another time. It was beautifully designed with filaments of flowers and falling petals. In the middle was written the name of the store, as well as the contact information just beneath. He stared at the numbers for a minute or so, wondering whether or not he should contact Yuuri. They did exchange numbers for business purposes only, but would it hurt just to have a friendly chat? 

Probably not, right?

He carefully began typing, taking his time to pick words.

**Good evening, Yuuri. This is Victor speaking. I hope that you wouldn’t mind having a conversation unrelated to busi|**

“God damn, I sound like I have a stick up my ass…” Victor muttered and quickly got rid of the terrible text message. He sighed and started again.

**Victor Nikiforov:** **Hello! This is Victor. I hope you don’t mind me texting you :)**

“This sounds...acceptable.” he mumbled and hit ‘send’. He stared at the blank screen, his heartbeat slowly picking up its pace as seconds stretched into minutes. What if he didn’t want to talk to him? Maybe it was a mistake? 

His train of thoughts got interrupted by the swift ringing of the notification bell.

**Yuuri Katsuki:** **Hey, Victor! Of course, I don’t mind talking to you. What’s up?**

Victor let out a large sigh of relief. His lips stretched into a smile as he typed out a reply.

**Victor Nikiforov:** **I’m a bit exhausted. How are you?**

**Yuuri Katsuki:** **I’m doing okay, but what’s wrong? Did you not sleep well?**

That wasn’t exactly the case, because him not sleeping well would imply that he was _sleeping_ , and not staring at the barren ceiling for several hours. He considered being truthful to his friend but decided against bothering him too much.

**Victor Nikiforov:** **Kind of, but it’s fine! I’m just finishing prepping for Katherine’s b-day!**

**Yuuri Katsuki:** **That’s nice! Are the lilies still alive? :)**

**Victor Nikiforov:** **Yes! Yes, they are! Please don’t kill me!**

**Yuuri Katsuki:** **Can’t promise anything ;)**

Victor let out a small laugh and his lips sprawled in a smile. His fingers danced on the touchscreen as letters began appearing one after the other.

**Very funny. Anyway, how was your|**

Victor was interrupted by the sudden ringing of the doorbell, meaning only that Katya was back home. He quickly dropped his phone and got up to greet her, cutting his conversation with Yuuri short.

He leaped to the door in two steps and unlocked it. Katherine was already in the process of discarding her shoes when he had opened the door. She looked up at him and beamed.

“Happy birthday, love!” he exclaimed, engulfing her in a hug

“Thank you!” she replied and kissed him on the cheek. 

He moved out of her way and grabbed her bag, hanging it on a hook. She took off her jacket and neatly placed it on a hanger. As she did, the pitter-patter of paws and barks echoed throughout the house, preceding the arrival of Pushok and Makkachin, who eagerly jumped around the young woman, begging for belly rubs. She only smiled in return and pet them on their heads. 

“Why are you acting like this?” she asked her fiance, who was posted in front of the living room door, exaggeratedly blocking the entrance. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not allowed in until after supper.” he shrugged, smiling.

 **“** Oh, _come on_!” she huffed. “My phone charger is in there!”

“Yeah, so?” he grinned, slyly raising an eyebrow. 

She sighed in defeat, realizing that arguing with Victor would be like arguing with a brick wall, and even then, the latter might actually end up accepting a few objections.

“When’s supper, anyway?” she pouted, giving her lover puppy eyes.

“I dunno,” he replied, dumbfounded. “My phone’s in the living room.”

Words couldn’t describe the sound that Katherine made.

Actually, they very much could. It was either a chortle or a wheeze, or perhaps an unholy mix of both. She clasped her hand over her mouth and continued giggling at Victor, who was now holding back a shameful smile.

“Well...if we’re not eating anytime soon,” Katherine began, her fingers dancing on her lover’s chest. “Then, why don’t we do _something else_ instead?”

“Daring, are we?” he replied with a playful smirk. “Well then, your wish is my command, milady.”

* * *

“Uno!” Katherine eventually yelled out, proudly tossing a “Plus Four” card on the already gigantic card pile.

“Shit!”

Victor looked at the fan of cards in his hands in despair. This was now his second loss in their best of three. 

“Why must you hurt me, Katya,” he pleaded. “What have I ever done to you?”

“It’s not my fault you suck!” she exclaimed, grinning in satisfaction. “Loser does the laundry.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, shuffling the deck. “Another match?”

“Well, if you want to lose, then be my guest.” she simply shrugged.

They were halfway through the game when they heard a knock on the door.

“This should be the delivery man,” Victor mumbled and stood up. He turned out to be correct because he soon reappeared in the kitchen with two large boxes of pizza.

“I swear to god, there better not be any olives on that pizza,” Katherine warned, taking out two glasses. 

“No, not at all,” he laughed and set both boxes on the table. 

“Hey, Vitya, did you see Yuuri recently?” she eventually asked, taking a bite of her olive-free pizza.

“Define ‘recently’,” he replied, arching an eyebrow. “But why do you ask?”

“I needed some feedback on a part of my work in progress,” she said.

“Well, to answer your question, no, I haven’t seen him,” Victor said. “And you could always look up something online.”

“Well, yes, I could, but consider this:” she argued. “A living person is better than a computer.” She pondered for a minute before adding “Also, he seems kinda lonely.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s in my place to intrude on his life,” he answered, taking a sip from his glass.

“Aren’t you friends?”

“I mean...yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “But we barely met.”

“Is that so?” Katherine asked. “He struck me as familiar when I saw him.”

“Maybe you just saw him pass by somewhere?” Victor suggested before shooing off Makkachin, who was determinedly climbing on the table.

“Maybe,” she gave in, shrugging. “Are you done? Can I go to the living room now?” she asked after a few minutes had passed.

“ _Shure,_ ” Victor mumbled, stuffing the last of his pizza into his mouth. 

He wanted to prevent her from getting there first but tripped on a roaming dog. As he scrambled to his feet, he could hear Katherine gasp in awe.

“Oh, my god, that’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “All of it!”

She stepped into the room and softly ran her fingers over the blooming flowers. She leaned in a bit to smell them and turned back to face Victor.

“Is this from Yuuri’s?” she asked in wonderment, her grin widening when Victor had nodded in response.

“I’m glad you like it,” he smiled, hugging her from behind. “Though you haven’t seen the best of it yet.”

“There’s more?” she gasped.

“Just you watch.” he grinned and took her towards the mannequin.

“Did you design this?” she asked, utterly amazed. “It’s gorgeous!”

She turned around and hugged her lover tightly. He passed his arms around her and held her close. 

“I love you…” she whispered in his chest.

“I love you too…” he softly replied.

He couldn’t help but feel the slightest uneasiness as he uttered those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho, some plot finally kicked in! From now on, the story will be picking up pace, so stick around for more!
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!
> 
> Thank you for reading~


	9. Me, My Screen and I

Intermittent clicking echoed throughout Victor’s empty office. He slouched over his computer, his fingers dancing over his keyboard, occasionally trading his stylus for his mouse. His sketchbook was propped against a stand, kept close for references. The curtains were barely open, as the bright sunlight directly hit his screen, which prevented him from seeing it well. Makkachin was curled up at his feet, fast asleep. He has been sitting at his desk for over two hours now.

He softly bopped his head to the music playing in his headphones and began laying down the base for his newest commission. He was to design yet another skating suit, this time for one of his long-forgotten acquaintances. What a joy it has been when the latter finally reached out to him after years of not seeing each other! He was extremely happy with doing something nice for his friend, and he was dedicated to making it look as good as possible.

Victor took a sip of his third cup of coffee and began gently tracing the curves that would later become the mannequin itself. He made sure to choose a position that would appear dynamic, yet would still portray the costume well. Letting out a large sigh, he scribbled down a few bullet points on a stray piece of paper and stood up to stretch. As he did, he accidentally awoke the sleeping mass of fluff under his desk, who joyfully began jumping around his owner.

“I know you want to go outside, buddy,” Victor chuckled, giving his pet deserved belly rubs. “But I have work to do right now,”

He decided to tidy up his workspace a bit, as he was slowly growing more and more distracted as minutes ticked by. He carefully carried his numerous dirty mugs to the kitchen and set them in the sink.

“Could you help me?” Katherine asked, cleaning in the living room.

“Later, I’m a little busy now,” he shrugged and headed to his office. Katherine only sighed and shook her head in response. 

Victor felt somewhat bad for acting like this, but he had to work before anything else. He plopped himself down in his chair and began sketching the suit. 

Every skating costume had to fit a certain theme, and this one wasn’t an exception. He glanced at his friend’s email and let out a light chuckle. It seemed that he and his routines haven’t changed at all.

As Victor was coloring in the suit, he got interrupted by his phone ringing. He looked at the caller ID and bridged his eyebrows. Well, here’s someone he hasn't heard from in a while.

“Hello?” he said, switching to Russian. “Why did you call?”

“Why do you think I called you?” an annoyed voice exclaimed. “I need a new suit.”

“Ah, there you go,” Victor replied. “And I thought you were interested in my life.”

The voice suddenly became quiet, though not for long.

“Ugh, Yakov told me to call you, alright?” it muttered. “I insisted on writing an email like a normal person, but _nooo, he just had to get his damn way_.”

“I feel like Yakov is holding you at gunpoint,” he laughed.

“Well, shit, he might as well be!” the voice yelled. “I’m in a shitty situation here, can’t you see?”

“I thought you already had your suits for the upcoming season,” Victor said, carrying on with his work.

“I _did_ ,” it sighed. “But the designer was hospitalized and couldn’t do it.”

“Ouch,” he replied. “So, you came to me, then?"

“I didn’t wanna’,” the other grumbled. “But as I said, Yakov freaking forced me to, so here I am.”

“Well, I’d be glad to help you as soon as I finish my work in progress,” Victor assured. “Which, frankly, shouldn’t take too long.”

“Huh? The hell do you mean?” the voice asked. “I need the damn thing!”

“And so does my client, _Yura_ ,” he simply replied. “Just have a little patience, okay?”

“Urgh, _fine_!” Yuri muttered. “But it better be perfect, understand?”

“Sure, just make sure to tell me what it is that you want,” Victor reminded. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the other mocked. “I’ll send you an email since this call is over.” he decided and hung up.

“Ah, what a child…” Victor muttered and put his phone down. The child in question hadn’t lied because a few minutes later, there was a new email in his inbox

He skimmed through it and scribbled something on his agenda.

Maybe if he’d finish early today, he’d be able to visit Yuuri? They haven’t talked in a few days now, and for some reason, the florist never wrote nor called. Was he annoyed with Victor?

He shook his head. He shouldn’t speculate. Better to just ask directly.

Disregarding his job, he picked up his phone and opened his messages. His heart fell when he had noticed that he never replied to Yuuri’s last text. What a dumbass he was.

 **Victor Nikiforov:** **Hey, I am so sorry! I forgot to hit send :(**

He got a reply almost immediately.

 **Yuuri Katsuki:** **Mhm..it’s okay, don’t worry about it.**

 **Victor Nikiforov:** **Are you sure? Are you okay?**

 **Yuuri Katsuki:** **Yeah, yeah, I’m ok. You?**

 **Victor Nikiforov:** **I’m okay, just a bit busy.**

 **Yuuri Katsuki:** **Then I believe I should leave you to your endeavors. See you later.**

Victor was shaken, to say the least. He had never seen so much passive aggressivity from Yuuri before, and he sure didn’t want to see it again. Was he still mad about Victor not answering? It may very well be so.

He was still clutching the phone in his hands when Katherine suddenly came in.

“Is ‘this’ your idea of working?” she called out, crossing her arms.

“Uh, I was just…” Victor began but got swiftly interrupted by the woman.

“You were just _what_?” she exclaimed. “Sitting on your phone while I’m busting my ass cleaning?”

“Oh, my God, I just texted someone for a _minute_!” he argued. “I was already done!”

“I don’t care!” Katherine yelled. “You’ve been here for hours! You could’ve spared a few minutes to help me!”

“Okay, _fine!_ ” he firmly replied. “What is it that you need?”

“Nothing, thanks!” she snapped and slammed the door shut.

Victor let out a large sigh and cupped his face in his hands. What was it with people and passive aggression today? 

He ran a hand through his hair and got back to work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Yurio appears! Here's another update! Also, things are getting a bit tense now, aren't they? :)
> 
> If you enjoy, please don't forget to leave kudos and comments~


	10. A New Old Friend

“I’m sorry!” Victor yelled out as he flung the door of the flower shop open. He looked like he’d been running, as his cheeks and ears were nearly bright red.

“Wow, okay,” Yuuri chuckled, confused. “To what do I owe such sincerity?”

“Eh...it’s complicated,” Victor replied, shaking his head. 

“The lilies better be alive,” Yuuri warned, pointing a flower at the taller man like a knife.

“They are!” Victor exclaimed, raising his arms in defeat. “You don’t have to be holding me at rose-point.”

“This is a peony!” Yuuri replied in indignation. “Also, are they, though?”

“Last time I checked.”

Yuuri let out a satisfied chuckle, before turning to Victor once more.

“So, how can I help you?” he asked before pondering and adding on. “You look...out of breath.”

“Yeah, no, I was just exercising,” Victor replied, approaching Yuuri’s desk. “I came to talk, if that’s okay.”

“Well, I do have a job to do, but,” Yuuri began with a smile. “If you came all this way, then sure.”

“That’s good to know,” Victor chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Besides modeling bouquets, taking care of flowers, and finishing commissions?” Yuuri pondered and shook his head. “I’m afraid my personal life isn’t much of a hustle.”

“Oh, really?” Victor said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you have any girlfriends?”

Yuuri froze. 

“Err, no,” he stuttered. “I don’t. Never have.”

“How come?” Victor asked, genuinely surprised. “You look good, you’re probably very smart, you’re kind, so why not?”

Yuuri let out a hearty laugh, confusing the silver-haired man all the more.

“Well, I’m glad that you see me like this,” he eventually replied. “But I am so awkward when it comes to relationships, it’s not even funny anymore.”

“Well, so am I,” Victor argued.

“No, shush, you’re not,” Yuuri shot back, once again pointing a flower at him.

Victor opened his mouth to reply but got interrupted by a phone ringing. Yuuri’s head shot up.

“I have to take this, hold on,” he said, looking at the caller ID.

He bridged his eyebrows. It was an unknown number. 

Years of his parents’ life lessons resurfaced and he promptly pressed the red button. He set his phone down and resumed his work.

“Everything okay?” Victor asked.

“Yeah, it was just an unknown number, and I don’t answer those,” Yuuri simply replied, shrugging.

“Do they call you often?” the silver-haired man asked, a hint of worry on his features.

“They called twice for the past few days,” Yuuri sighed. “And I can’t block it because they keep using a new number every time.”

“Creepy.”

“Yeah, it’s unsettling at best,” he shuddered. “Why would someone even do such a thing?”

Suddenly, the door opened and a customer came in. It was who Yuuri thought was a teenager, no older than 16. The newcomer’s slender figure was enveloped in a baggy hoodie with a tiger imprint on it. His shoulder-length blonde hair covered most of his face.

The florist barely opened his mouth, when the newcomer spoke.

“Hey, I need some-” he uttered before freezing. His eyes shot wide open and an unstable expression settled on his features.

“Oi, what the hell are  _ you _ doing here?” he exclaimed, pointing at Victor. The latter only chuckled, pleasantly surprised.

“I could ask you the same thing,  _ Yura _ ,” he smiled, switching to Russian. “I thought you wouldn’t be here for another month.”

“Yeah, so did Yakov,” the teenager maliciously grinned. “Too bad he was wrong.”

“You do realize you can’t just take off in the middle of the night, right?” Victor asked.

“None of your business, old man,” he snapped. “Stop wasting my time, I came here for a reason.”

Yuuri helplessly watched as the two men were deeply involved in what it seemed like a heated conversation. He felt a little excluded, but it was interesting to see the contrast between Victor’s imperturbable stance and the boy’s angry attitude. They seemed good buddies...sort of.

When the blonde turned to the florist, he was left speechless for the second time that day.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” the young man cried out in English. “It was all over the damn news!”

“First off, that’s rude,” Yuuri replied matter-of-factly after a few seconds had passed. He then forced an amiable smile. “Second, welcome! How may I help you?”

“Don’t you change the topic,  _ Katsuki _ !” Yura exclaimed. “What the hell is going on?”

“How do you know me?” Yuuri carefully asked.

The teenager shot him an ‘are you serious’ look. He opened his mouth to speak but only sighed and shook his head.

“Y’know what?” he muttered. “Forget it, I came here for something else.”

“Hey, Yura,” Victor called out, confused. “Where do you know him from?”

The young man looked daggers at Victor and hissed. “ _ Ты че, нафиг, забыл? У тебя с памятью все совсем хреново, да? _ ”

“Wha…?” the silver-haired man muttered, but the blonde already walked past him and approached Yuuri. He tried to force a more or less polite smile.

“So, I need a bouquet for my grandpa,” he said.

“Umm, okay,” Yuuri replied. “What’s the occasion?”

“He’s coming over from Russia!” the teenager said with stars in his eyes. “He finally got a Visa!”

Victor and Yuuri both gasped and began congratulating the boy. It was met with a weird look from another customer, who muttered something and looked away. He clearly wasn't an immigrant...

“Does your grandfather have any favorite flowers?” Yuuri asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Sunflowers,” the young man blurted out. “He likes sunflowers.”

“I see,” the florist smiled. “Then, why don’t I make a nice arrangement for you?

When Yuuri had retreated for some tools, Victor swiftly turned to the blonde and began questioning him.

“Seriously, though,” he said in his native tongue. “How do you know him?”

“What the hell, Victor?” Yura exclaimed. “It’s  _ Katsuki Yuuri _ , Christ’s sake!

His spirits fell even further when his words were met with a very confused expression. 

“You know,  _ THE _ Katsuki, yeah?” he asked, a condescending smile briefly appearing on his features. Unsatisfied by Victor’s cluelessness, he bridged his eyebrows and muttered something to himself.

A few minutes later, Yuuri had reappeared with a pack of flowers, scissors and wrapping paper in hand. He skillfully enveloped the bouquet with yellow paper and tied a beautiful bow at its base. 

“There,” he said as he wrapped the arrangement with transparent film.

“Looks good!” the teenager approved and paid.

“Hey, Yuri,” Victor called out.

“Yes?” both the florist and the blonde said in unison. They looked at each other with a mix of bewilderment and annoyance.

“Ugh, I was hoping this wouldn’t happen,” the latter muttered, shaking his head.

“Okay, I’ve decided!” the silver-haired man exclaimed and pointed at the young man. “Yura’s name will now be  _ Yurio _ !”

“Ew!” the teenager cried out in disgust. “Why can’t it just be  _ Yura _ ?”

“Too confusing.”

“Screw you, old man,” he muttered and waved goodbye to Yuuri. “Also, I expect my suit to be ready soon, yea?.” 

Without saying any more, the blonde walked out and the room fell in silence.

“So, uhh…” Yuuri began, “What just happened?”

“That, my friend,” Victor chuckled. “Was Yuri Plisetsky. He’s a prodigy in the skating world.”

“Oh! I think I heard of him!” Yuuri said after pondering.

“You have?”

“I think so,” he replied. “Though I can’t pinpoint when or where…”

“Well, he sure did seem to know you fairly well,” Victor noticed. “How’s that?”

“I dunno,” Yuuri lied. 

Victor seemed unconvinced but didn’t push it further. He glanced at his watch and his facial expression immediately shifted to dismay.

“Shit,” he cursed. “I gotta go.”

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, concerned.

“Katya’s waiting for me,” he briefly explained and waved. “See you later,  _ Yuuri _ ,” he said, stretching out the ‘u’.

“Good...bye,” Yuuri barely muttered, frozen.

* * *

“I saw Yuri today,” Victor told Katherine as he was discarding his shoes.

“Huh,” she uttered, not particularly surprised. “How’s his shop?”

“What shop?” Victor asked, confused.

“The flowers, no?”

“No, no, no!” he exclaimed. “The Plisetsky boy!”

“Ooh!” she cried out, her smile widening. “How’s he doing?”

“Good as ever,” Victor chuckled. “He’s here for Skate Canada.”

“I see,” she nodded. “Will you be going?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I don’t feel like going alone.”

“Well, I can’t go, Vitya,” Katherine shrugged. “You could go with Yuuri, you know?”

“I don’t think he’s interested in skating, though.”

“You never know,” she smiled meaningfully and retreated to the living room, leaving Victor on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! A bit of a shorter chapter today, but hopefully the frequent updates make up for it ^-^.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing Yurio's character, and I'm happy with how he's coming along! If you enjoy the story, please don't forget to leave kudos and comments because they literally give me the motivation to work!
> 
> Also, the plot is going to pick up its pace in a chapter or two! Finally!
> 
> See ya next time!
> 
> P.S: the thing that Yurio told Victor was something along the lines of: "How the hell did you forget? Your memory is that shitty, yea?"


	11. Where It All Ended

Phichit checked his phone for the umptieth time, gazing out the window of one of his favorite cafés. A pleasant smell of coffee lingered in the air and soft chatter resonated in the room. Now wasn’t such a busy time, because it was Monday morning and most customers never stayed for long, simply grabbing a coffee or a freshly baked croissant. He watched as the not so busy street began slowly filling with passers-by and vehicles of those hurrying to work. At least he wasn’t in a hurry today.

He fiddled with the hem of his jacket and bounced his knees in anticipation. Though a steamy beverage sat right in front of him, it remained untouched, as he didn’t want to start without Yuuri. It has been quite a while since they last saw each other, as both had daily matters to attend to, and their friendship, unfortunately, shifted to the background. Today, however, was the florist’s day off and Phichit quite literally begged him to spend time together, though he didn’t have to because Yuuri quickly agreed.

So, here he was, waiting for his friend who had picked up a nasty habit of showing up late. 

Phichit sighed. He wasn’t surprised at all. 

Poor Yuuri never had a reason to step out of his mundane, ingrown routine. All he did was spend days upon days in that shop of his, which wasn’t necessarily bad. Phichit just wanted to see his friend more outgoing and not holed up like a...what was it, a _Rapunzel wannabe_?

Phichit liked to think that Yuuri was secretly a fairy tale princess. Well, to him, it was clear as day. The flowers, the elegance, the self-isolation, the signs were all there!

After a few more minutes of fantasizing, the princess in question walked through the door and began cluelessly looking around in search of his friend. Phichit waved at him and saw his lips sprawl in a smile. He made his way towards the Thai boy and greeted him before sitting across him.

“So, Rapunzel,” Phichit chuckled, propping his elbows on the table. “How have ya’ been?”

Yuuri gave his friend a confused look but giggled at his exaggerated expression. “I’ve been more or less okay,” he replied, briefly glancing at the menu on the wall. “But the place is getting busier by day. I am _drowning_ in commissions as we speak.”

“Ouch, that’s tough,” Phichit winced. “Any ideas why that’s the case?”

“There’s the whole ‘ _summer’_ part, you know?” Yuuri said. “People are going out more, ergo they meet up with their loved ones more, ergo they need more flowers, ergo the store is busier.”

“No, I figured as much,” Phichit laughed. “But what I meant is, is there any _special event_?”

“What...event are we talking about?” Yuuri asked, cocking his head to the side. 

Phichit offered him a sly smile.

“Well, as you may or may not know,” he began. “There may or may not be an upcoming competition that may or may not be related to cursive walking.”

“I...still don’t understand,” Yuuri muttered, standing up. “I’m gonna get myself something. I’ll be right back.” 

When he had returned, several minutes later, he was carrying a medium coffee cup and a little brown bag. Phichit had gulped his drink, which had time to cool down. 

“Run it by me one more time, would you?” the florist asked, shaking his head.

“To put it simply,” Phichit sighed, somewhat exasperated by his friend’s cluelessness. “It starts with an ‘S’ and ends with ‘kate Canada’.”

To say that Yuuri was shaken was quite the understatement. He gave his friend an annoyed look, yet it wasn’t enough to wipe the boy’s goofy smile off his face.

“Alright, what did you want to talk about?” Yuuri groaned, biting his muffin. Though he didn’t act like it, he was _starving_.

“Yay!” Phichit exclaimed. He finished what was left of his pastry and rubbed his hands together. He leaned in closer to his friend and began.

“So, as you may know, this event marks the start of a new season, okay?”

“Sure.” Yuuri hummed.

“That of course means: new routines, new costumes, and new opportunities to show the world your talent,” Phichit continued, talking clearly so that his friend wouldn’t be confused. 

Perhaps even a little _too_ clearly.

“Phichit, I know all that,” Yuuri smiled, somewhat vexed. “Just, get to the point.”

“Okay, okay,” the other nodded, putting up his hands in defeat. “What I’m saying is, I would appreciate it if you’d come with me to the rink.”

Yuuri’s expression turned bittersweet. He opened his mouth to muster a reply, but no sound came out. Phichit could almost see the Capharnaum of conflicting thoughts raging inside the florist’s head.

“Hear me out, okay?” he tried. “I just want you to see my routines before everyone else does. And, besides, I miss it, you know? Us doing something like that together, I mean.”

“Phichit…” Yuuri began, clearly at loss for words. “As much as I want to see your routines and as much as I miss those times, I just...can't.”

“I understand,” Phichit nodded but made no effort to hide his disappointment. 

“But, hey,” Yuuri smiled, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Eventually, I’ll come with you, I promise.”

“Could I still send you videos, though?” Phichit hopefully asked.

“Of course!” Yuuri joyfully replied. “I’d love to see them!”

“Hurray!”

They continued small talk until they were both finished with their drinks. Getting rid of their rubbish and dusting off the table, they walked out of the cafe, and Yuuri decided to walk Phichit to the nearby rink since the latter had afternoon practice to attend. He was, of course, overjoyed and talked non-stop about his routine ideas.

“So, that’s when I’d go ‘ _whoosh_ ’ into a quad salchow and then ‘ _nyoom_ ’ into a combination spin!” he exclaimed, bouncing on his tiptoes, almost mimicking the element.

“How many quads do you even have?” Yuuri asked, not even sure of the meaning of his question.

“Umm, let’s see,” Phichit pondered, kicking a pebble. “In my free program, I’m oscillating between two and three quads. Same goes for the short one.”

“And is that a lot, or?”

“Well,” he laughed. “I remember you pulling off two four-quad programs in a breeze, so I’m not so sure.”

“I wouldn’t compare yourself to me, though,” Yuuri chuckled, tearing a leaf off a tree. “You’re probably much better off now.”

“Eh, you never know!” Phichit offered him a sly smile.

Yuuri was going to protest but got interrupted by his phone ringing. He quickly grabbed it and glanced at the caller ID.

“Who the fu-” he muttered and bridged his eyebrows. Weirded out by the far too familiar ‘unknown number’, he promptly pressed the red button.

“What’s wrong?” Phichit asked, a hint of concern in his voice. 

“Nothing, there’s just a creep who keeps calling my phone now and then.” Yuuri sighed. “And I can’t even block the perp.”

“Ew, that’s freaky,” Phichit cringed. “Maybe try tweaking some privacy settings?”

“Huh, you’re right, I’ll try that tonight.” Yuuri nodded

“D’ya know who might be calling you?” Phichit asked as they approached the rink.

“I might have an idea,” Yuuri reluctantly replied. “But I hope to God I’m wrong.”

Suddenly, something surfaced in his mind. As if it was always in his memory, but tucked away, far from his reach. Yet, there it was, waiting for him to grasp it.

_“Yuuri, whatcha’ doing there?” Ezra had asked, leaning on the doorframe._

_“Oh, I’m just texting a friend,” Yuuri replied, looking up from his phone. He was comfortably sprawled on the couch, a mug of hot tea in hand._

_“A friend, huh?” Ezra muttered, a hint of doubt in his voice. “And who, pray to tell, is that?”_

_“It’s Phichit,” Yuuri simply answered. “His plane has just landed in Bangkok, so we’re chatting while he waits for his luggage.”_

_“Oh, so *he* can have your time, but *I* can’t?” Ezra complained, crossing his arms. “You spend time with everyone else, *but* me! You’re selfish.”_

_“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal, Ezra,” Yuuri argued, trying to calm the other down. “Let me just bid him goodbye and I’ll be with you then.”_

_“Now.”_

_“What?”_

_“I said, now.” Ezra almost growled. “Leave that damn phone or I swear to Christ, I’ll fucking break it.”_

_“Okay, okay,” Yuuri gave in and put both his phone and his mug on the table, pushing the former as far away as possible. “There you go, happy?”_

_Ezra only nodded in response and curled up next to Yuuri, who was very much weirded out by this situation. It wasn’t usual for Ezra to lash out like that, and he wanted to know the reason why he did, though he thought better and kept his mouth shut._

_“Y’know that I love you...right?” Ezra softly whispered and the memory faded out._

That phrase still echoed in Yuuri’s mind long after he’d dropped Phichit off at the rink. He felt so naive for believing such a blatant lie back then, and yet it did feel sincere.

As he headed home, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that somehow...he hadn’t seen the last of Ezra.

* * *

Slouched over her manuscript, Katherine nibbled the tip of her pen as she meticulously searched for any sorts of errors or misprints. It was her third time re-reading the whole book, and every single time, she had managed to find the dumbest of mistakes.

“Who the hell writes ‘unfortunately’ like that,” she muttered to herself and crossed out the erroneous word, rewriting it correctly. _This_ was the unamusing side of writing, not as if writing itself was particularly fun, but editing was even worse. It was a messy, chaotic process that could leave you questioning your very _damn existence_.

And here she was, doing that very thing. She has just noticed that a crucial element of the storyline made completely no sense whatsoever. She cursed and crossed out the entire paragraph, deciding to deal with it later. She was too tired anyway.

She walked over to her bed and plopped herself on it. As she did, she was immediately greeted by two masses of fluff, who cheerfully jumped at her feet, begging for pats.

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled, giving her pets some love. “Just don’t climb onto the bed, alright?”

After the dogs had departed, she laid down and checked her phone. There were no notifications at all, meaning Victor didn’t even bother to text her to ask about her day. She didn’t even know where he was right now. Hell, he could even be with another woman, for all she knows!

No, he wouldn’t do something like that. Probably.

Though she couldn’t help but feel that something fishy was afoot. It may or may not have something to do with Victor spending nearly every living moment with Yuuri. 

She hated it. 

She hated the fact that her _fiance_ wasn’t paying her as much attention as he used to, and she hated herself for trying to be controlling of Victor. He was a grown man, after all, he ought to be responsible, right? It probably wasn’t such big of a deal, and she was glad to see her lover actually out of the house.

He had just found a new friend, and somehow, coincidentally, they clicked. She knew only too well how fun it was to meet new people to talk with, people you never knew could share the same interests as you. This was most certainly the case here.

Yes, that was it.

So, why was Katherine now rummaging through Victor’s documents?

Weirdly enough, there was no spite involved. She just wanted to get to the bottom of this ‘Yuuri’. There was _no_ way she never saw him before, and she was going to find proof of it.

She opened a large drawer and took out several files, most of which were at least several years old. She carefully skimmed through them, stopping only when she had found a folder titled “Grand Prix 20XX”.

There it was, the moment of truth.

She looked at every single picture she could find, but her search yielded no results. 

Until...a particular group photo caught her attention. 

In the picture, all the competitive skaters were standing together, engulfing each other in a bear hug. She had no trouble finding Victor, whose goofy, careless grin made Katherine chuckle. His hair was still sort of long back then, wasn’t it?”

But...who was _that_?

She didn’t recognize him at first. Hair slicked back, playful glare in his eyes, a sly smile on his lips, this immortalized alter-ego couldn’t be any more different from the person she knew it was. How has he changed so much in so little time?

There, passing an arm around Victor’s shoulders, stood _Katsuki Yuuri_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pLoT tWiSt! Turns out Victor did know Yuuri before, but he's just an epic dumbass. Also, can you smell that in the air? Yeah, it's foreshadowing.
> 
> If you enjoyed, please leave some kudos and I'll post the next update as soon as possible~


	12. Let’s Not Meet Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter contains profanity. Viewer discretion is advised.

Yuuri hummed to himself as he softly dragged his pencil around the paper, leaving pale lines. He wasn’t sure what he was sketching, simply letting his imagination guide him. A wonderful field of flowers unraveled on his page, picturing just about every plant you could think of.

This felt relaxing, he ought to do it more often.

Subtle lo-fi music echoed throughout the store. It was barely after opening time, so he could still enjoy some time alone, as there were no customers yet.

As more and more flowers made their appearance on his page, he wondered what it would be like to run in an endless flower field. It must be so satisfying.

The feeling of grass under your barren feet, the soft kisses of sunshine on your cheeks and nose, the bewitching fragrance of thousands of flowers…

It must be something truly fascinating.

The strident ringing of the landline phone snapped him out of his daydreaming.

“You’ve reached the Flower Shop,” he answered, picking up the phone. “How may I help you?”

“Hey, _Yuuri,_ ” said a vaguely familiar voice, stretching out the ‘u’.

Yuuri’s blood ran cold.

_Could it be...?_

He opened his mouth to utter a reply, but no sound came out. He was confused.

No, _beyond_ confused.

“Who…” he carefully began. “Who _are_ you?”

“Aww, darling,” it softly chuckled. “It’s me, Ezra! Don’t you remember me, kitty-cat?”

_Of course, he did._

“No, I don’t,” he firmly replied, clenching his fist.

“Oh, is that so?” the voice playfully chirped. “You didn’t hit your head ‘that’ badly, didn’t you?”

“My personal life isn’t of your concern, _Ezra_.” Yuuri retorted.

“Aww, you called me by name!” it exclaimed. “How long has it been since the last time you’ve done that?”

“Listen here, you creep,” he said, growing somewhat confident. “I want you to never call this number again, and leave me alone!”

“Feisty, are we?” it laughed, before suddenly turning serious. “You have no choices in the matter, darling. I already found this number, and I’ll find _you_ next,” it whispered, making Yuuri shiver.

He couldn’t take this anymore. He wasn’t willing to be Ezra’s puppet again. Not after what happened.

Something sparked deep within him. A fire of _pure hatred_.

“No, the _fuck_ , you won’t!” he snapped. “Screw off, or I’ll call the _fucking cops_ on you!” he yelled in a voice foreign to him and tossed the phone. It landed on the table with a satisfying _crash_.

“Fuh…” Yuuri whispered, slowly catching his breath.

He couldn’t believe that the man he just spoke to was Ezra, but more so, he couldn’t believe that he had said those words. Hell, he didn’t _want_ to believe it, and he desperately clung to the tiny shred of hope that it was nothing but a terrible dream.

He’s had those before, hasn’t he?

Granted, he didn’t remember much of the guy, but he still wished that he would’ve had enough common decency _not_ to call him after two years of dead silence.

This event _had_ to be a dream. A mortifying one, alas, but a dream, nonetheless.

He didn’t want to accept the alternative.

Except this wasn’t some weird hallucination created by his sleep-deprived imagination. This was real life. Ezra did call him just now and there was no avoiding _that_.

Somehow, that seemingly logical conclusion made Yuuri’s blood boil.

What was he thinking? How could he be so damn naive? What could’ve possibly led him to believe that the man who destroyed _his life_ would just _walk away_?

He felt disgusted with himself. Completely and utterly disgusted. Whatever it is that Ezra did to him, he probably deserved it.

Driving a peaceful and loving person insane took effort, didn’t it? It took weeks upon weeks of slowly pushing them to the limit, and he did it.

He, being the _oh so great_ person that he thought he was, drove the man to such lengths. What a fantastic conclusion.

You reap what you sow, as they say.

Though...something nagged inside him. A flicker of doubt.

This didn't quite fit together. At all.

No matter how much of a bad person he might’ve been, there were still events unaccounted for. He obviously couldn’t recall them, but deep down he knew that there was so much more to the story.

What if something bad happened to Ezra? Surely, a person couldn’t completely change their personalities in the span of a few weeks just like that. There had to be a catalyst and an awful one at that.

Maybe he was too harsh on Ezra just now? What if he called to apologize or because he needed help?

Also, how did he even find his number? It’s not like they had many common acquaintances save maybe for Phichit, but he would never do such a thing.

Either way, the question still lingered. What could have possibly happened for Ezra to call _him_ out of all people? Maybe he had gotten so ridden with regret that he had to talk to him.

What if Ezra wanted to hurt him, though? Surely, this was something to consider.

He hurt him once, badly so. What’s stopping him from doing it again? Common sense? Probably not.

He’d already found his store number so finding Yuuri would be a piece of cake.

Curse the wonders of technology.

“Ezra...coming...here…” Yuuri muttered as the meaning of those words slowly slinked in.

The thoughts of his living, breathing nightmare standing tall in front of him with that frown and cocky smile clung to his soul like a parasite.

Ezra couldn’t be here. This shop is the only safe space he had apart from his home. Moreover, he had a job to do and he couldn’t just bail whenever he felt like it.

If he’d were to come...he’d lose _everything_. Everything he’s worked so hard to get for the last two years. What would he do then?

Tears pricked his eyes, but he tried to force them back. Now wasn’t the time for weeping. If anything, now, more than ever, he needed to stay rational and take preventative measures. He was going to make sure that Ezra wouldn’t set foot in his life ever again.

_Surely, there was no reason for him to worry, right?_

_Everything was still okay, right?_

_Right..._

That’s what Yuuri told himself over and over as he held himself tightly, forcing out raspy gasps now and then. Cold shivers brutally pierced his skin and he desperately clutched the counter to keep his balance.

He felt like the floor at his feet would collapse under him any minute and the furnishing of the shop morphed into something hideous, turning blurrier by the second.

His stomach twisted and an unpleasant ache spread through his whole body. He gasped in pain and clutched his shirt. His vision slowly faded and overwhelming darkness engulfed him.

He didn’t even feel his body hit the ground.

* * *

_  
An intense throbbing headache snapped Yuuri out of his already short slumber. He groggily opened his eyes and hissed at the faint rays of sunshine escaping through his curtains._

_Wait…where the hell-_

_Oh, right._

_Hasetsu._

_His body ached and burned as he slowly propped himself on his elbow and weakly tossed his blanket away. He carefully palped his nightstand for his glasses but hit what seemed to be a glass of water, because he soon heard the object hit the floor with a crash and felt its contents spilling all over him._

_“Shit…” he whispered as he tried to free himself from his wet linen. That was also the first word he’d said in days._

_He found his glasses at the foot of his bed, completely wet. He sighed and tried to wipe them off his t-shirt, not caring to retrieve his cleaning cloth. He put them on and immediately winced from the sharp pain in his forehead. He could see, but was it worth it?_

_“To hell with it,” he muttered and set his glasses back on his nightstand._

_Nearsightedness sure is fun, huh?_

_Groaning and cursing, Yuuri somehow managed to get up on his feet but had to grab onto his furniture to keep his fragile balance. He slowly made his way towards the closet with a wobbly step and pried the doors open._

_He wasn’t sure what he expected to find in the closet, though he was hopeful for a t-shirt and maybe a pair of old trousers. Anything would be fine._

_Instead, he was greeted with a few empty shelves and lonely hangers._

_“Fuckin’ hell…” he whimpered and carefully pulled off his wet t-shirt, tossing it to the ground._

_Sudden sharp pain in his temples made Yuuri gasp and fall to his knees. He grabbed his head and bit his lip until he could feel warmth trickling down his chin and a displeasing taste in his mouth._

_“At least…” he muttered, his eyes filling with bitter tears. “At least, I’m safe here…”_

* * *

“Holy shit, Yuuri, are you okay?” Victor cried out in horror as he fell to his knees next to the florist’s limp body. “Oh, my god, please answer me!”

The boy was sprawled on the floor behind the counter. His features were inanimate, devoid of color, and his usual grin. Victor spotted Yuuri’s glasses a few inches away from him, seemingly in one piece. At least Yuuri wouldn’t be sad about _that_.

Wait, no. Now wasn’t the time for that. Taking care of Yuuri was Victor’s biggest priority now.

He quickly scanned him for any visible injuries or traces of blood, but luckily found none. He softly grabbed Yuuri’s lifeless wrist and placed his fingers over it, gasping of relief when he felt a faint pulse. The florist’s chest slowly rose and fell as quiet huffs escaped his lips.

He was okay…everything was okay.

“Yuuri, wake up,” Victor said, lightly shaking his shoulder. “C’mon, you can’t be laying down here.”

The Japanese boy let out a drowsy ‘what?’ and carefully opened his eyes. Whatever he may have been expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t Victor crouching over him with a concerned expression on his face.

“God, what the _fuck_?” Yuuri exclaimed, quickly scrambling to his feet, leaving Victor shocked. Unfortunately, his dizziness was still far too overwhelming, and his legs gave way.

He shut his eyes and braced himself for impact, but Victor’s strong arm swiftly scooped him up before he could hit the floor again.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Victor gently asked, placing a hand on the younger male’s shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Hands off me,” Yuuri growled, looking away.

“What?” Victor uttered, perplexed.

“I said,” Yuuri repeated, a glint of anger in his eyes. “Take your damn hands off me.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Victor argued, removing his hands.

“I know,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry…something just came up, alright?” he replied, taking a deep breath. “And it was…quite a shock.”

“I understand,” Victor smiled. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here, okay?”

“Well, I don’t think that you could take such drama,” Yuuri weakly chuckled. “It’s one hell of a long story.”

“Yeah, I got that when you cursed at me,” Victor snickered, raising an eyebrow. “Now _that_ was one hell of a shock.”

“Huh?” Yuuri muttered, somewhat surprised before his lips sprawled in a sly smile. “Well, I might just not be as innocent as you thought.”

Victor grinned and shook his head. “Also do you know how freaking terrifying it was for me to find you laying on the floor unconscious? I thought you were _dead_!”

Yuuri let out a hearty laugh.

“I wish I’d seen your expression,” he joked, before pondering for a minute. “Though why didja’ come here?”

“Uhm…I wanted to talk about something,” Victor replied, scratching the back of his neck.

“So?” Yuuri asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“I seem to have forgotten…” he chuckled sheepishly. “But I’ll remember eventually.”

“I’m sure ya will.” Yuuri simply replied, shrugging.

Victor could’ve sworn something snapped in Yuuri that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! Ezra finally makes his appearance and Yuuri s n a p s. It was super fun writing that part because, honestly, I live for sassy Yuuri~
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoy writing it, please consider leaving a comment and sprinkle some kudos, and I'll try my best to keep y'all updated.
> 
> See ya~


	13. Dancing On The Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write this chapter for a very long time...

“Guess what?” Yuuri called out to Phichit as he walked out of the back room, carrying a bunch of unprocessed flowers.

“What?” Phichit asked, leaning on the worktable.

“Nah, you gotta guess,” Yuuri replied, setting down the flowers on the table, a devious smile on his lips.

“Oh, come on!” Phichit whined. “Just spill it already!”

“Fine,” Yuuri chuckled, grabbing a pair of shears. “Ezra called.”

“ _Who_ did _what_?” Phichit uttered, color draining from his face. “When? Why? How?”

“That’s a lotta questions for a two-word sentence,” Yuuri remarked, swiftly stripping the flowers of their withered leaves and petals. “Ezra called me like two days ago. I don’t even know whatever it is that he wanted, I tossed the phone after he started threatening me.”

“He did _what_?” Phichit exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table. “Mate, I hope you called the cops on that jerk.”

“Eh, not really,” Yuuri shrugged. “I didn’t get the chance to.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, according to Victor,” he pondered. “He found me passed out on the floor, so I assume I didn’t take the news all that well…”

“Woah, stop right there,” Phichit interjected, stretching out his hand. “I have so many questions and you just keep adding on more and more mildly disturbing information.”

“Okay, what’re your questions?” Yuuri sighed.

“What the heck are you doing now?” Phichit said, pointing at the table.

“What do you…” Yuuri muttered before realizing that he has cut an entire bud off a white rose. “Ah, shit,” he cursed and threw the damaged flower out.

“Hey, language!” Phichit exclaimed, earning a nonchalant shrug from Yuuri. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“That’s cause I am,” Yuuri replied, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been feeling like garbage ever since…well… _that._ ”

“What did he say to you?” Phichit carefully asked a few minutes later.

“Nothing much, really,” Yuuri pondered, scooping up the bunch of discarded leaves and tossing it in the bin. “As I said, I hung up on him soon enough.”

“Yeah, but you did say he threatened you,” Phichit remarked.

“Oh, yeah. He said he’d come to find me.”

“What the _hell_?” he exclaimed, shocked. “Yuuri, that’s no joke! It’s _Ezra_ we’re talking about, Christ’s sake!”

“You don’t think I know that already?” Yuuri retorted, exasperated. “It’s not like I’m enjoying being propelled straight back into that damn rabbit hole.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Phichit exclaimed. “And I really don’t want to argue with you about something we both agree on.”

“Honestly, me neither…” Yuuri replied, shaking his head. “I’m not in the mood for _anything_. I just want to go home, pop a pill, cry for a bit, and fall asleep early.”

“You do that every other night.”

“So?”

“It hurts to see you like this,” Phichit sighed. “It’s like you’re not yourself anymore. Like there’s a blight following you or something.”

“Yeah, its name is Ezra Myrah and I’m getting fed up with it,” Yuuri shot back, tying a tight bow around another bouquet of roses.

“Yuuri, look at me,” Phichit softly said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll get through this together. You’ll be able to go back to your normal life, I promise.”

Though he wouldn’t dare voice it, Yuuri couldn’t help but think that there might just not be anything to come back to.

“Okay…” he muttered and pulled his friend into a hug.

They stayed like this for about a minute, until the ringing of the doorbell brought them back to reality.

“Hey, Yuuri!” the newcomer exclaimed. “Feeling better today?”

“Oh, hi, Victor!” Yuuri smiled, approaching the door. “Yes, a little, but what about you?”

“I’m as good as ever, I guess,” Victor replied, chuckling lightly. “I had some errands to run in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d pop in and say hi.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Yuuri laughed, before coming upon a realization. “There is a friend I’d like you to meet! Phichit?” he called out and turned around.

Except Phichit didn’t answer.

He was standing there, frozen, eyes wide open and mouth agape. He seemed to be trying to muster some sort of a reply, but all that came out were raspy noises.

“Wha…what?” Yuuri muttered, confused. “Are you alright?”

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, suddenly grabbing the florist by the shoulders. “Why the heck didn’t you tell me that you were friends with _Victor Nikiforov_?”

“E-eh? But I did!”

“You didn’t specify _which_ Victor!” he said, shaking his friend. “You never told me his last name!”

“Because I had to?” Yuuri asked, freeing himself from Phichit’s arms. “You never asked!”

“Oh, my _God_!” Phichit cried out. “Don’t you remember _the_ Victor?”

“No, I don’t!”

“Can I interject there?” Victor called out, raising his hand. “What’s going on?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Yuuri sighed, exasperated.

“Oh, wait,” Victor pondered before pointing at Phichit. “I know you!”

“You do?” both Phichit and Yuuri exclaimed at the same time.

“Yes!” Victor said. “Oh, aren’t you the guy who skated to ‘The King and The Skater” last year?”

“That’s me!” Phichit replied, beaming. “I thought you wouldn’t notice!”

“How could I not?” Victor said, shaking his head. “Your free program was amazing that season!”

“I think I might actually cry,” Phichit chuckled, stretching out his hand. “I’m so honored to finally meet you.”

“The honor’s all mine, really,” Victor smiled, shaking the Thai boy’s hand. “Never thought I’d see you here out of all places.”

“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual,” Phichit shot back, laughing. “I thought you went back to Russia. After your injury, that is.”

“To be fair, I’ve considered it,” Victor pondered and ran a hand through his hair. “But I needed a fresh start and besides, my every move was monitored back in Russia.”

“The fangirls, no doubt?”

“Oh, no. God, no.” Victor chuckled. “Coach Yakov sounds more like it, though I doubt he’s a big fan of mine.”

“Really?” Phichit laughed. “My coach isn’t half as strict.”

“Well, to each his own, I guess,” Victor shrugged. “Though, how come you know Yuuri?”

“Oh, don’t you remember?” Phichit asked, before correcting himself. “Or, rather, hasn’t he told you?”

“Well he told me he had a ‘skater friend’ and that’s it,” Victor replied.

“Is that so?” Phichit asked, arching an eyebrow. “Hey, Yu…” he began but stopped upon seeing the state of his friend.

He was still standing where he was five minutes ago, staring blankly at the wall and muttering something in what Phichit could only assume was Japanese.

“Erm…has Yuuri-dot-exe stopped working?” he called out, waving a hand in front of the florist’s idle eyes. “Hello?”

“Would you be so kind as to explain what the _fuck_ is going on?” Yuuri eventually muttered, his gaze still focused on some dent on the wall.

“Well, first of all, watch your profanity,” Phichit replied, taken aback. “Second of all, why the heck are you surprised? Victor is a skater and I’m a skater, so it’s only natural that our paths might’ve crossed at some point.”

“No, no, I know that,” Yuuri said, shaking his head. “It’s just that I didn’t realize that _this_ Victor was the same as the one you keep blabbering about.”

“I am _not_ blabbering about _anyone_ , Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, flustered.

Yuuri sighed and turned to Victor. “I sincerely apologize for everything you’ve had to withstand from the moment you walked in here.”

“It’s alright, really,” Victor shrugged. “Though, I must admit, I am equally confused.”

“Well, that’s somewhat comforting,” Yuuri smiled.

“Hey, don’t y’all gang up on me!” Phichit exclaimed, crossing his arms with a pout. “I’m fragile!”

The other two simply chuckled in response and comfortable silence filled the room.

“Hey, Phichit,” Victor eventually called out. “You’re here for Skate Canada, right?”

“Oh-uh, yeah!” Phichit replied. “But I came here a month early so I could spend some time with this guy right here,” he grinned, placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that was one heck of a surprise,” Yuuri said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Speaking of which,” Phichit called out, jumping on his tiptoes. “Victor, how is your foot doing? Is it still bad?”

“Umm, well, it’s obviously not completely healed,” Victor pondered. “But I can already do some singles or doubles without hurting myself, so that’s a start!”

“Great!” Phichit beamed. “Y’know, there’s a rink not that far away. We could all go there and have some fun!”

“Sounds good!” Victor agreed. “That would be a welcome distraction, and besides, I’d like to see your routine.”

“Hurray!” Phichit exclaimed and turned to the florist. “And, you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri let out a hearty, borderline maniacal laugh.

“Hell no.”

“But, why though?” Phichit asked innocently.

“You know very damn well why!” Yuuri retorted. “And I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again.”

“What, what’s wrong, Yuuri?” Victor asked, concerned. “Why don’t you want to go?”

“Because of…reasons,” Yuuri sighed.

“Is it because you can’t skate?” Victor suggested.

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuri lied, shrugging.

“Don’t you worry, Yuuri,” Phichit assured, barely holding in his laughter. “We won’t make fun of you, I promise!”

“That’s what you said that time you dragged me to a roller-coaster!” Yuuri exclaimed, crossing his arms. “You never let me hear the end of it!”

Victor let out a small laugh. “Awe, it’s okay, Yuuri,” he said. “I’m not that good on ice right now either, so you won’t feel too excluded.”

“Nevertheless, as much as I appreciate your offer,” Yuuri replied. “I’d rather decline.”

“Come on, Yuuri,” Phichit insisted. “It’s going to be okay!”

“No!” Yuuri shot back. “I am not going anywhere _near_ a rink and that’s _final_!”

* * *

“Aw, _fuck_ ,” Yuuri grumbled with a fake British accent, looking out the window of Victor’s car. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“We get it, you like being dramatic,” Phichit sighed. “Save that for the ice, won’t ya?”

“Huh…what are you so scared of?” Victor muttered, glancing at the florist through his rear-view mirror. “It’s not like you’ll fall and get hurt or whatever.”

“Mhm, sure,” Yuuri hummed sarcastically and leaned on the door.

He was tired, weary from the many sleepless nights brought to him by his nightmares.

Surely a little rest won’t hurt, right?

Lulled by the purring of the car’s engine, Yuuri fell asleep.

* * *

_The Iceberg Skating Palace had to be one of the most beautiful rinks Yuuri had ever seen in his career. It was a huge building situated in the center of the touristic city of Sochi. The exterior walls have been covered with colorful tiles of all hues of blue, creating the effect of a passing wave._

_The sight of the receding sunlight hitting the stained glass still made his heart flutter, even after all these years._

_How long has it been since the last time he’d stepped foot in here?_

_Since the last time he’d watched *him* skate?_

_Life really does come full circle, does it not?_

_After all those years of admiring *his* work, he’d finally get to compete next to him._

_Maybe even to stand next to him on the podium._

_It might be unlikely, but a boy could always dream, right?_

_He approached the rink with a spring in his step. A smile subconsciously appeared on his features. Excitement filled his body, his heart pushing adrenaline through his veins._

_He watched as small groups of people of all ethnicities clustered around the entrance, gleefully chatting about the upcoming competition or looking at the skaters themselves._

_A couple of teenage girls called out Yuuri’s name and waved at him. He grinned and waved back. It was always nice being recognized by fans. It made you feel worthy._

_He happily sighed and flung open the doors._

* * *

“Wakey, wakey, you sad excuse of a Disney princess,” Phichit beckoned, ruffling Yuuri’s unruly hair. “We’re here.”

“Could I just wait in the car?” Yuuri groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I won’t be much use to y’all anyway.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” Phichit shot back and unbuckled both his and Yuuri’s seatbelt.

Victor was already unloading his old sports bag from the trunk when Phichit finally managed to drag Yuuri out of the car.

“Jesus Christ, Yuuri, stop being so difficult,” Phichit sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “You won’t die of a few hours on the ice.”

“Okay, fine!” Yuuri exclaimed. “I’ll do this stupid thing, but I get to be bitter about it.”

“As long you’re quiet, it’s a deal,” Victor joked, handing Phichit his bag.

“Yes, of course, you can joke at my expense,” Yuuri mocked, shutting the door.

“Oh, good!” Phichit chuckled, running up the stairs leading to the rink. “Glad we have your consent!”

Victor silently watched as Yuuri trailed behind, looking at the rink with indignation. He wondered what would make such a sweet nonconfrontational person turn a complete one-eighty in such a short period. He wished he could find the courage to ask Yuuri himself about the reasons he disliked skating so much, but knew that it would be best not to pry on him right now.

“Hey, you good?” he instead asked, letting the florist catch up to him and offering him a warm smile.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Yuuri sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I’m being dramatic, but…” he paused and bit his lip.

“But what?” Victor said, cocking his head to the side.

_At least he wasn’t bitter anymore, so that’s a good start, right?_

“Ugh…never mind,” Yuuri trailed off, seemingly frustrated with himself. “It’s fine, forget it.”

“Oh, if you say so,” Victor simply shrugged.

He stole one last glance at Yuuri as they were walking into the rink. When he did, he came to the weirdest, yet the most obvious realization.

Yuuri wasn’t _disgusted_ , he was _afraid_.

Petrified, the florist took his first step into a rink for the first time in years.

* * *

_“Oh, my Yuuri,” his mother proudly muttered, holding her son close. “You made us so proud, you know?”_

_“Yes, your mom’s right,” his father agreed, patting him on the back. “You’re flying to Russia, eh?”_

_“Couldn’t they have held the competition closer to home?” his mother whined, looking at her son with a silent plea._

_“Don’t be silly, momma,” Yuuri chuckled, holding her hands. “It’s the Rostelecom Cup, after all! And, besides, I’ll be back home for Skate Canada, alright?”_

_“Also, I’m going with him, so he’ll be fine ‘n dandy,” his older sister Mari muttered, grabbing her suitcase and carrying it outside._

_“Shouldn’t we ride you to the airport, though?” his dad suggested._

_“No, it’s okay!” Yuuri assured, taking his own luggage. “I already called a taxi. It should be here any minute.”_

_“You’ll call me when you’ll get to the airport, yes?” his mother asked, standing at the door, as her kids were climbing into a white Toyota._

_“Yeah!” Yuuri exclaimed and waved to his parents. “Goodbye, mom and dad!”_

_"Goodbye, my children! Stay safe!”_

* * *

“That’s not how you tie skates, Yuuri,” Phichit reprimanded and waved his hand in front of his friend’s face when the latter didn’t answer. “Earth to Yuuri? Hello?”

“Huh?” Yuuri muttered, suddenly snapping out of his trance. “Whatcha’ say?”

“I said, your skates aren’t tied properly,” Phichit repeated, a little softer this time. “You might injure yourself, and we don’t want that, right?”

“Guess not,” Yuuri simply agreed and put himself to work. He subconsciously tied a swift knot in a matter of seconds. “Is that better?”

“You should know,” Phichit shrugged with a sly smile. “Or, rather, you’ll figure it out once you get there, yeah?”

“Mhm, ambiguous answers, my favorite,” Yuuri commented and carefully stood up, still holding the bench.

He walked, or, rather, wobbled across the changing room to Victor, who was busy pulling on protectors on his skates. Even though he hasn’t done this in a while, his moves were rapid and precise.

Then again, he _was_ a world champion, after all.

“I’m not sure what’s more unstable,” Yuuri joked. “My feet or my mental state.”

“You’ll be okay, alright?” Victor chuckled, standing up. “I’ll even hold your hand if it makes you feel better.”

“Uhm…that won’t be necessary,” Yuuri muttered, feeling heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“Alright, y’all coming or not?” Phichit called out, pushing open the doors to the rink and holding them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri mumbled, awkwardly making his way to his friend.

God, did he feel like he was walking on Louboutin’s. Not like he ever walked on them, anyway.

Or, maybe he did, he couldn’t remember.

The moment he stepped into the rink, he felt a gust of fresh, cold air chill his face and ruffle his hair.

He took in the pale, glistening surface that unraveled in front of him. Scratches covered most of it, slowly erasing the lines designed for hockey. It was mostly empty since it was only Tuesday afternoon.

Something about this made him feel queasy.

What if this was a bad idea? What if he’d get hurt again?

He really shouldn’t be here. He wanted to run, far, far away.

Only, there was nowhere to run to.

* * *

_“It’s not that hard, Ezra,” Yuuri assured holding his boyfriend by the arms. “All you gotta do is keep your knees bent and your feet steady.”_

_“Yea, easy for you to say, Mr. Skater,” Ezra mocked, barely holding onto the railing. He could feel his feet slowly drifting apart, and awkwardly scrambled them together. “How the fuck are you even doing this?”_

_“Try to keep your balance, alright?” Yuuri suggested, smiling softly. “You’ll get the hang of this. Eventually.”_

_“So, how do I move then?” Ezra asked, somewhat steady on the ice. “Ya didn’t teach me that one.”_

_“Right, sorry,” Yuuri chuckled and stood next to Ezra. “You have to take long strides like you’re trying to slide.”_

_“What?”_

_“I mean, you can’t just walk like you usually would,” Yuuri explained, demonstrating the technique. “You have to let the blades cut through the ice.”_

_“Okay,” Ezra sighed and carefully slid his feet through the slippery surface, holding onto the railing for dear life. Slowly, but surely, he began moving forward. “Is this how you do it?”_

_“Yes!” Yuuri approved, swiftly skating around him. “You’re doing great!”_

_“Except I don’t think I am,” Ezra said, irritated. “Also, could you stop showing off? Bit of a dick move.”_

_“I’m not though,” Yuuri argued. “Hey, be careful!”_

_“Shut up,” Ezra shot back. “I’m fine.”_

_Ironically, he didn’t feel his feet give way, and ungracefully fell to the ground._

_“Fucking hell, Yuuri!” Ezra growled, scrambling to his feet. “Stop being useless, help me, damn it!”_

_“Okay, okay,” Yuuri beckoned, helping his boyfriend stand up. “Falling is normal, alright?”_

_“I wish I never came along to do this stupid thing,” Ezra complained, making his way to the exit. “Why the hell did you drag me here?”_

_“I just thought…” Yuuri muttered apologetically but got interrupted by Ezra._

_“Whatever the hell went through your brain, it was wrong,” he snapped. “You ever think of anyone other than yourself?”_

* * *

“Yuuri, is everything alright?” Victor softly asked, sitting down next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You look pale.” He suddenly realized his mistake and removed his hand. “Sorry.”

“I…I think I remembered something,” Yuuri muttered, absently looking at his hands.

“Oh? What’s that?” Victor innocently asked. “Did you forget to do something?”

“Not sure, no,” Yuuri shook his head. “But never mind, I’m fine.”

“Phichit’s already at it, see?” Victor smiled, pointing at the small figure swiftly moving around the glistering surface. “You sure you don’t wanna join?”

“He’s so good at it…” Yuuri gasped, looking at his friend. “He’s so much better than the last time I’ve seen him skate.”

“And when was that?” Victor asked.

“A while ago,” Yuuri pondered. “Couldn’t tell ya.”

“Well, you know what?” Victor eventually said, standing up. “I’m gonna go out there, okay?”

“Sure, _Vic-Kun_ ,” Yuuri mumbled, yawning. “Have fun.”

Victor softly smiled and carefully made his way downstairs. He glanced at the florist one last time before stepping on the ice for the first time in years.

God, did it feel good.

He chuckled to himself as his body slowly adjusted to the lack of friction at his feet and took short strides, quickly making his way to Phichit.

“Oh my!” Phichit exclaimed, beaming. “Do my eyes deceive me, or has the Living Legend himself returned?”

“Stop with the flattery,” Victor laughed. “I am about as useless on the ice right now as my college diploma was in my career.”

“Damn, okay,” Phichit commented and nodded at the benches. “Is he coming?”

“I don’t know, really,” Victor shrugged. “He was spaced out when I left him.”

“Ugh, Yuuri…” Phichit sighed. “Come on already!”

He wished he could see what was happening in Yuuri’s head.

The florist stared blankly at his skates, letting his thoughts run wild.

“What the hell am I even doing?” he muttered and cupped his head with his hands. “I don’t wanna be here…”

As much as his instincts screamed to run away, he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that somehow, this was the right thing to do.

Listening to the low hums of chatter, to the blades hitting the ice with a satisfying ‘ _shlack_ ’, feeling the chills of the cold gusts of conditioned air oddly comforted him, though he wouldn’t admit it.

The pale glistening surface beckoned him more and more every passing minute. He curiously watched people skate in circles, some confidently, others not so much, and yet they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

What if it wasn’t that bad? What if whatever happened to him two years ago had nothing to do with the ice? What if he had spent all this time despising this place in vain?

What if…he could change something?

What if he could overcome this blight that has been eating at him for so long? What if the only way to fix it all was to pick up where he left off?

Maybe he wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Maybe his blood wouldn’t run cold every time someone mentions figure skating. Maybe he could be better than what he is now.

Maybe he could even…get back what he had lost long ago.

Yuuri sighed and removed his glasses. Wouldn't want to break them, yeah?

One by one, he descended the steps leading to the ice and finally stopped on the ground floor.

His heart was thumping like crazy; he could feel his hands shaking.

He looked in front of him. Barely a few feet were separating him from his everlasting nightmare.

Yuuri took a step forward.

_He swiftly flung himself into the air, spinning and gracefully landed his Salchow._

Another step.

_He entered his step sequence, his fluent moves merging with the music as if his own body was creating it._

Just one more step.

_The audience roared as he bowed, roses flying all around him. He caught one of them, and demonstratively held it out._

The floor was gone. There was nothing but ice as far as he could see.

Yuuri was left breathless, almost choking at the craziness of what he was about to do. He frantically searched for a rail and clung to it for dear life.

To his greatest dismay, his feet refused to listen, determinately drifting apart. Cursing, he brought them back together, trying his best to maintain his fragile balance.

Unbeknownst to him, just a few yards away, Phichit was nearly moved to tears.

“Oh, my, God…” he muttered. “He did it…”

“Wow, he really _can’t_ skate,” Victor commented, unaware of Phichit’s emotional state. “Should we help him?”

“No, absolutely not!” Phichit shot back. “This is something he has to do on his own.”

“Jeez, okay,” Victor shrugged, taken aback. “He will fail miserably, though.”

He couldn’t have been righter.

Yuuri slowly waddled around the ice, never letting the rail out of his grip. Slowly but surely, his strides got a little braver, but nearly not enough to skate over to his friends.

His mind should’ve been swarming with all sorts of thoughts, but oddly, it was completely blank. As if someone switched off whatever was left of his critical thinking, leaving only shards of broken memories and instinct.

Maybe, that’s exactly why his pace was picking up so quickly. Maybe even _too_ quickly.

He didn’t even notice when his hand left the rail. He gasped in bewilderment and confidently took his first unaided step, much like a chick taking its first flight.

It was finally happening! That _glorious_ moment was finally happening…

Huh. Ice sure is cold.

Yuuri could’ve sworn he’d heard his friends laugh behind his back as he struggled to lift himself, the cold still stinging his face.

He cussed and continued making laps around the rink, stumbling and tripping now and then. He was determined to do this. Now, more than ever

“He sure is a quick learner, eh?” Victor whistled as he watched Yuuri pick himself up. “Damn, he’s even got the techniques down. Did you teach him, or something?”

“I guess you could say that,” Phichit muttered, mesmerized by his friend’s resilience. “Though, I didn’t expect _that_.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone did…” Victor began but suddenly froze.

Yuuri has long let go of the rail and began picking up speed. Victor knew _exactly_ what it entailed, but he hoped to everything holy that he was wrong.

No, it was impossible. Someone who couldn’t skate fifteen minutes ago couldn’t be possibly doing what Yuuri was about to do. His eyes must’ve been deceiving him. There was no way that…

Victor watched in horror as Yuuri spread his arms, like a bird that’s about to take its flight, and swiftly flung himself from the ice. He counted a solid one and a half turns until the figure clumsily collapsed to the ground.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed in dread and quickly made his way to the florist, followed by a very concerned Phichit. He couldn’t believe what he has just seen, it was unfathomable! “Yuuri, are you hurt?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” the latter grumbled between curse words, grabbing Victor’s helping hand. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“What the hell was that half-assed toe-loop just now?” Victor asked, almost going haywire from shock. “I thought you couldn’t skate, but you’ve clearly got the techniques down!”

“Define ‘can’t skate’,” Yuuri muttered, rubbing his aching shoulder. “Just…give me some time, alright? I’ll explain later…probably.”

“Wha…?”

“Victor, it’s okay,” Phichit assured, nodding at Yuuri. “He’ll be okay.”

Yuuri watched as his friends reluctantly retreated to give him some space. He sighed.

How the hell did he end up in this predicament?

He blankly stared at the blinding ceiling lights, unsure of what he should do.

Wait…what if he…?

No, he couldn’t possibly do this.

Or, could he?

Well, he’ll never figure out if he doesn’t try, right?

Yuuri took a deep breath and skated towards the middle of the rink, under Phichit’s curious gaze.

_“Coming up first for his short program, a true shining star of his country, Katsuki Yuuri!” the host announced as Yuuri stopped in the center and took a graceful pose. “He will be skating to ‘History Maker’.”_

_The crowd went silent as the first notes of the song echoed throughout the rink. Yuuri instinctively moved his body to the music, a light smile on his features._

_“Can you hear my heartbeat?”_

_Oh, he sure could. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, as he prepared himself for his next element._

_The song began somewhat melancholically, meant to represent his issues with anxiety and his fear of not being good enough. His hardships, his everlasting fight with himself, he was showing it all through his moves today._

“Wait, just a minute!” Victor cried out in surprise, trying to keep his voice low. “Is this…?”

“It’s…History Maker,” Phichit muttered, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “It was his last short program before he…”

Slowly but surely, the pieces in Victor’s mind began to assemble, forming a shocking picture.

_“Katsuki Yuuri Made History with his outstanding short program, setting a new record in his league!" the host exclaimed as the audience let out a loud cheer._

How could he forget?

_“Hey, Katsuki, that was amazing!” Victor saw himself call out to Yuuri, as the latter made his way to the kiss-and-cry._

_“Thanks,” Yuuri waved, beaming. “I’m looking forward to seeing your performance too!”_

They even knew each other…so what has happened?

How come such a talented person had to leave what he loved the most?

Victor’s heart froze. He remembered an article from two years ago.

_“Japanese skater Katsuki Yuuri hospitalized after a tragic accident at Skate Canada 20XX.”_

“So…Yuuri’s…” Victor began, glancing at Phichit.

“Ah, you remember, huh?” Phichit picked up, smiling. “I thought your memory was whacked too.”

“What do you mean?”

Phichit didn’t answer, his gaze still fixated on Yuuri. He gasped and whipped out his phone, a brilliant idea in mind. Smiling, he hit the ‘play’ button.

Yuuri didn’t even notice the familiar music at first, his body moving on his own.

_“Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades…”_

He subconsciously began picking up speed, elegantly spreading his arms. What element was next? He didn’t even know.

_“You set my heart on fire!”_

He flung himself into the airs and swiftly spun four times before landing with a satisfying ‘shlack’.

_“And, he nailed his toe-loop!” the voice in Yuuri’s head exclaimed._

He couldn’t believe what he has just done, and neither could Phichit, nor Victor.

Now was the abrupt transition from his unsure self to his confident self. It was Yuuri’s favorite part.

Periodically glancing at the audience, he entered his step sequence. He was unstoppable, dancing like his body was creating the music.

Yuuri was giving it all today. Beaming, he threw himself off the ice again, with the host’s commentary.

_“What a combination! A perfectly executed triple axel, a double loop, and a quadruple Salchow!”_

_Made it! Only one quad left, and he didn’t feel the least bit tired._

No, he was pumped for more.

“ _We were born to make history!”_

Yuuri pulled off his quadruple Lutz and slung himself into a combination spin, slowing his pace when the last notes of the song faded out.

_Panting, he took a pose and bowed, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest._

“Holy shit!” he heard Victor exclaim somewhere behind him. “That would’ve scored at least somewhere in the hundreds!”

People clapped all around, some even seeming to recognize him. He weakly waved to them and cupped his face in his hands. He still couldn’t see anything.

Yuuri suddenly felt himself engulfed into a hug by Phichit.

“I’m so proud of you!” the latter smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down!”

“Huh, thanks,” Yuuri replied between huffs. “Though, I still have no _fucking clue_ what just happened.”

“Me neither,” Victor chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “And I believe you owe me an explanation, yes?”

“Sure, let me just…” Yuuri muttered, breathless. “Let me just sit for a bit, cause I think I’m gonna faint now.”

“Oh, damn, okay,” Phichit laughed and grabbed Yuuri’s shoulder, gesturing for Victor to help him.

As they were sitting down in the changing room, packing up their belongings and getting ready to leave, Victor retrieved his phone from his bag.

He cursed.

**_15 missed calls from “Katusha <3”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure hope you're happy with this unusually chunky chapter! Over 5k words! Can you imagine? It seems that all cards are revealed now, and Victor finally knows of Yuuri's real identity. Though, why was it that Katherine called Victor so many times? The plot thickens~
> 
> If you're enjoying this story, please don't hesitate to sprinkle some of those kudos and comments, because the more support you guys give, the more I will work on this~
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	14. Cracks In The Foundation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter contains coarse language :P

“Katusha?” Victor called out as he opened the door of his apartment. “I’m home.”

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” Katherine exclaimed, appearing in the hallway. “I called like a thousand times!”

“Fifteen, actually,” Victor stated, matter-of-factly, discarding his shoes.

“Just answer the damn question!” Katherine snapped. “Where have you been all day?”

Victor sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

He knew that lying wasn’t an option, and not just because he was a terrible liar, but because he knew that Katherine was going to find out eventually.

“I…” he carefully began, observing her reaction. “I went skating.”

Katherine gasped and took a shaky step back. Her features deformed into an expression oscillating between fury and betrayal.

She stood there, frozen, opening, and closing her mouth as if that was going to help in any way.

She, who usually had such a good way with words, couldn’t muster as much as a single sound.

Words fail, really.

“Wh…what?” she eventually uttered; her voice thick with tears. “B-but…I thought you…”

Victor cursed under his breath and looked away.

He might’ve fucked up just now.

“Katya, I’m…” he muttered, trying to take her hand in his.

She violently snatched it away.

“Don’t you touch me!” she cried, stepping even further away. “You really think that a simple ‘sorry’ will fix this mess you’ve made?’

“Aren’t you overreacting a bit?” Victor argued, crossing his arms. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“ _Excuse me_?” she exclaimed, aghast. “Have you become so obsessed with _your dearest Yuuri_ that you forgot about your _fiancée_?”

“What the hell?” Victor shot up, taken aback. “He has nothing to do with _any_ of this!”

“Oh, really?” she asked sarcastically. “Then how come you’re with him all the damn time?”

“Oh, my god!” Victor cried oud, rubbing his temples. “How many times must I repeat this? He’s a friend and I enjoy his company, nothing more!”

“Yeah, you’re clearly enjoying it,” she commented, her words full of venom.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, irritated. “You must be delusional.”

“Oh, so _I’m_ the bad guy now?” Katherine said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I never said that!”

“But you insinuated it, didn’t you?” she asked spitefully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re seeing someone other than me at this point.”

“What the _fuck?_ ” Victor exclaimed, puzzled. “Do you think that low of me?”

“I don’t know anymore!” she shot back. “You’re never with me so how the fuck would I know anything about you?”

“Sure, let’s just disregard the _three and a half_ years we’ve been together,” Victor shrugged nonchalantly and tossed his bag into the hallway.

“That’s something you’ve been doing, alright,” she muttered under her breath, as he was making his way to the bathroom.

“Excuse me?” Victor asked, turning around. “The hell did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“And you clearly don’t want to risk repeating it,” he noticed, bridging his eyebrows. “So how about we just drop this and never talk about it again?”

“Sure, like the ten other arguments we’ve put on hold,” Katherine nodded and retreated to the living room.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Victor asked, exasperated. “It’s like you want to fight.”

“And why do you think that is?” she shot back, leaning on the doorframe. “Have you become so thick-headed?”

“Then, what do you want from me?” he sighed. “What is it that’s bothering you?”

“I’m tired of living like this, alright?” she exclaimed. “You never spend time with me! You’re either holed up in that office of yours or hanging around Yuuri!”

“That’s not true!” Victor argued. “Today I had some business to attend!”

“Which is _precisely_ why you went skating,” Katherine commented. “Makes total sense!”

“Oh, is _that_ why you’re so riled up?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re pissed that I didn’t go with you?”

“What a genius!” Katherine replied sarcastically. “How did you figure that one out?”

“Stop that, would you?” Victor cried out, frustrated. “If we’re gonna solve this, then you’re gonna at least have to hear me out!”

“No, _you_ hear me out, _Victor_ ,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at him. “I am so incredibly sick of you never listening to me! Every day, you have a new excuse for getting away from me!”

“Yeah, it’s called _work,_ Katya!” he shot back. “Y’know, the thing that you should also be doing?”

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Well, sure, your first book was well-received,” Victor shrugged. “Though, might I remind you that the sequel barely made it past the critics?”

“ _Excuse me_?” Katherine asked, furious. “What the hell gives you the right to bitch about my writing?”

“I don’t recall ‘bitching’ about anything,” Victor replied between air quotes. “I was simply stating facts.”

“I’m getting fed up with this shit!” Katherine exclaimed, stomping her foot. “Your tactlessness astounds me!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the one to talk!” Victor argued. “If you had simply let me explain myself, we wouldn’t even be in this mess!”

Katherine let out a maniacal laugh.

“No, because I would be happily listening to your dirty lies!”

“Stop being hysterical, damn it!” he cried out. “Hear me out for a second!”

“And here you are, blabbering on and on about defending yourself!” she yelled, her voice thick with spite. “Didn’t your parents teach you how to behave?”

She _really_ shouldn’t have said that.

“Well, fuck if I know, they fucking _died_!” Victor snapped and slammed the door of his office shut, the sound resonating in every inch of the apartment.

Isolated in the darkness of his shelter, Victor cursed and tossed his stack of books from his table, a loud bang echoing around him.

He fell to his knees and cupped his face in his hands.

Sure, he acted like an asshole by not calling Katherine over today _and_ missing over a dozen calls, but truth is, he didn’t want her there.

Maybe it was because she has become way too controlling lately, or the fact that she asked to see his phone at least twice a week.

Or could it be because…

No. Not happening.

He sighed.

Whatever it was, they had to figure it out as soon as possible, because he didn’t want to live on like this.

Suddenly, a notification from his phone snapped him out from his monologuing.

He bridged his eyebrows. It was a text from Yuuri.

 **Yuuri ^-^: ** **You free tomorrow?**

With shaky hands, Victor typed out a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Bit of a shorter chapter today, to give you a break from the chonky ones. I had quite some fun writing snarky and nasty replies for our dearest characters, even if it meant hurting my own feelings, lol.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did, don't forget to leave some of those kudos and comments~


	15. All Cards Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some mild profanity, so please be advised :P

Victor woke up in cold sweat, panting, and tangled in his blanket only to find himself on the floor next to the sofa.

He shakily propped himself up in complete darkness, cursing under his breath when his head hit the coffee table.

He didn’t even know what time it was but suspected that sunrise was about an hour away.

Letting out a large sigh, he freed himself from the clutches of his blanket, tossing it on the couch, before standing up.

Victor plopped himself back in “bed” and picked up his phone. He hissed soundlessly and rubbed his eyes when the bright screen lit up, showing ’ **05:03 AM** ’ in the middle.

A never-ending ache plagued his entire body. He weakly ran a hand through his disorderly hair, shifting his bangs from his eyes.

Sighing again, he focused his gaze on the barren ceiling, letting his thoughts engulf him.

He hasn’t spoken to Katherine since yesterday, having stayed in his office until late night, just to make sure she was asleep. He then crept back into their bedroom, grabbed whatever clothes he could find, a random pillow, and a spare blanket before retreating to the living room.

Sleeping next to her might not be a good idea.

Up until now, Victor has been avoiding the obvious in his mind, yet despite his efforts, he could still hear Katherine’s last words to him, clear as day.

_“Didn’t your parents teach you how to behave?”_

His eyes burned, bitter tears suddenly wetting the pillow under him.

He felt disgusted with himself and quickly wiped his eyes with his shirt.

How pathetic of him to cry like a child, when he should be at the age of solving his issues on his own.

He really wasn’t taught well, huh.

Victor couldn’t be the only one at fault, right? Even though he had said a lot of regrettable things, and pretty much caused the argument, Katherine had no right to pry on his past like that.

Slowly but surely, he began to realize that he didn’t want to see her today. It would be far too awkward and confusing, and the last thing they both needed was another quarrel.

No, right now, they needed some time away from each other.

He knew that Katya was an early-riser and that she would walk the dogs, but since he was already awake, he might as well take that task off her hands.

Whispering, he beckoned both Makkachin and Pushok and feebly stood to his feet, wincing when his leg cramped.

Soundlessly, Victor found the pair of jeans he had been wearing yesterday, sincerely not caring about what he looked like right now, and threw on a light jacket.

As he was attaching the leashes to his pets, he glanced at the kitchen and wondered if he should at least grab something to eat.

No, he wasn’t hungry.

Without even leaving a note, he walked out, locking the door behind him.

As soon as he stepped outside, he was hit by a gust of fresh air, making him gasp. He could feel the cold prickling his skin and the wind ruffling his already messy hair. Bringing a jacket was a good idea because the sun had barely risen and so the chills still made themselves clear.

Victor glanced at his wristwatch; it was now past six o’clock, so Katya must have already woken up.

He sighed at the thought of her walking around the house, pointlessly searching for both him and the dogs. Maybe, even, just the dogs.

Maybe she didn’t care about him.

On a happier note, it would seem that Yuuri wanted to meet up with him tonight, which was fairly uncharacteristic for the florist. Victor could only imagine what prompted him to such actions but assumed that it had something to do with the ‘incident’ at the rink if you could even call it that.

He also wondered why it couldn’t be solved over the phone. Maybe Yuuri preferred talking about what seemed to be his ‘tragic past’ face to face. Victor didn’t complain, either. Any excuse to get out of the house today was a good one.

Since the cold slowly began eating at his body, he decided to lap the housing agglomeration one last time before finally returning home.

* * *

Katherine groggily opened her eyes as the monotone beeping of her alarm clock echoed throughout the room. She groaned and snoozed the mildly loud object with the back of her hand before rolling to the other side of the bed, now facing the window. She reached out into the darkness expecting to find Victor’s peacefully sleeping body, or at least one of the dogs, but found only emptiness and a lonely pillow.

She bridged her eyebrows in confusion. Where the heck was Victor?

“ _Vitya’_?” Katherine quietly called out, propping herself up on her elbows. “You there?”

No answer.

She sighed and freed herself from her blankets before picking up her phone. To her dismay, there were no new notifications or texts.

The whole house was quiet. _Too_ quiet. Usually, there would be at least some kind of muffled ruffling or thumping from the dogs going about their business, but she couldn’t hear any of it now.

Has she become deaf?

No, that can’t be it. People don’t just magically lose their hearing overnight.

Katherine silently made her way into the empty hallway, hoping that somebody was home.

“Hello?” she said, now a bit louder. “Vitya, where are you?”

Still, she didn’t get an answer.

She checked every room, even peeking in Victor’s office -yes, he wouldn’t approve, but she had a mission- yet not a single soul was found.

Finally, she glanced into the living room and found Victor’s discarded blanket and pillows disorderly laying on and around one of the sofas.

“So that’s where he slept, huh…” she sadly muttered to herself and picked up the linen, putting it back where it belonged.

Though she had her doubts yesterday, Katherine came to the painful realization that her impulsive, foolish comments really cut Victor deep. There was, after all, a very good reason why she had immediately regretted her words as soon as they had left her lips.

She wished that she could take all of it back.

Sighing again, Katherine looked around the living room and the hallway, searching for Victor’s note -and that’s assuming he’s left one- but ended up plopping herself on the couch.

She concluded that he must’ve woken up far before her, which was very uncharacteristic for a heavy sleeper like him, and went to walk the dogs.

Then again, why didn’t he wait for her? It’s not like a walk at the park was such a pressing matter that it couldn’t be postponed.

She knew exactly why but hoped to God that she could still fix it.

Breakfast might be a good start.

Katherine lightly hummed to herself as she retrieved the necessary ingredients from the fridge. Luckily, they still had some cottage cheese left, so she was going to make some Russian cheesecakes, which just so happened to be Victor’s favorite breakfast.

She felt really good about this.

As she took off the last batch of cakes from the stove, the deadly silence was suddenly broken by quiet barks and footsteps outside. She gasped and made her way into the hallway, deciding to open the door by herself instead.

“Morning!” she beamed at her fiancé, who didn’t immediately look at her, focused on the search for his keys.

He only hummed in response and ushered the dogs inside, before coming in himself.

Katherine shifted a few steps back, puzzled by Victor’s behavior. He eventually looked up to place the now discarded leashes onto the shelf, his bangs shifting away from his face.

Only now did Katherine notice the dark circles under his eyes and his sickly pale face. His hair was a perfect mess as well, flying each way but loose.

She bit her lip in discomfort and watched as Victor soundlessly took off his shoes and jacket, revealing an old wrinkled t-shirt.

“Why’d you get up so early?” she innocently asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Were the dogs that restless?”

“No,” he muttered. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Katherine quietly commented. “Do you want breakfast? I made some…”

“No, thanks,” Victor replied, inadvertently cutting her off. “Not hungry.”

“Oh…okay,” she muttered, sad. “Would you like tea, then? You ought to at least ingest something.”

Victor only shook his head and walked right past her, into his office.

“I have a lot of work to do,” he said in a detached voice, before shutting the door behind him, leaving Katherine even lonelier than she was before.

* * *

Yuuri cursed under his breath as he sorted through the pile of discarded clothes at his feet, tossing them into the washing machine as he went. He sighed. No wonder he had nothing left to wear.

He glanced at the clock behind him. It has just struck six PM, meaning Victor would be here in less than an hour.

How did he even end up in this predicament? Why couldn’t they meet up somewhere other than his house? Like, let’s say, a café?

Well, frankly, it was his own fault, and besides, him cleaning up was long overdue, so there was an upside to this.

Moreover, he wasn’t even sure as to why he asked to meet up with Victor. Yuuri figured that it would only be fair to clarify and explain some misunderstandings, since he felt like he lied to Victor, and he didn’t want that feeling to linger.

Somehow, Yuuri thought that hurting the silver-haired man was just about the worst thing he could do.

He sighed again and got to his feet, finished with his laundry. Only a few scarce tasks remained, such as washing the few dishes cluttered in the sink and maybe passing a mop around the place.

Other than that, it would seem that he had done a good job at ridding his one-bedroom apartment from all kinds of trash.

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and cringed.

Who was he kidding? That was acceptable at best.

Placing the last dish back in the cupboard, Yuuri decided that he should at least take a shower and look his Sunday Best.

Well, maybe his Wednesday Acceptable would be fine.

What did it matter to him? He didn’t go to church anyway.

He still had to shower though.

Half an hour later, he was rummaging through whatever was left of his closet, searching for something acceptable enough, but not too fancy. He didn’t want anyone -much less Victor- think that he dressed for attention because he really didn’t.

No, he was simply trying not to come across as an epic douchebag.

Yuuri finally settled on a pair of jeans and a light blue flannel over a white t-shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled.

He didn’t look half bad!

However, the smallest detail irked him; his damn bird’s nest of a hairstyle. He sighed and poked around his drawers for a hairbrush, managing to find it under a pile of clean towels.

“Okay…and how am I to do this?” he muttered to himself as he drove the brush in a familiar motion, unwillingly slicking his wet hair back.

He cringed at his reflection in the mirror and wanted to quickly change it but got interrupted by the sudden buzzing of the intercom.

Yuuri rushed to the door and promptly pressed the ‘open’ button, trying to calm down his racing heart.

After what felt like eons, he had finally heard a soft knocking at his door. He took a deep breath and opened.

“Hi, Yuuri!” Victor said with a weak, yet sincere smile on his fatigued features. “You look really good, you know?”

“H-hey,” Yuuri sheepishly replied, letting his guest enter. “I wish I could say the same for you, but you look _knackered_ , my friend.”

“What a polite way to say that I look like shit,” Victor commented, taking off his shoes. “Didn’t get a lick of sleep last night.”

“Oh, no!” Yuuri said, a hint of concern in his voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Victor shrugged off and looked around in awe. “Oh, this is very nice!”

“Hah…thanks,” Yuuri muttered and quickly regained his composure. “Would you like something to eat? Or…uh, tea?”

“Tea is fine,” Victor replied, following the younger male into the house.

“Make yourself at home,” Yuuri said, gesturing to the small living room, furnished with a crème colored sofa, a wooden coffee table and a little TV set. The room itself was merged with the kitchen, like many other apartments of this style. “The bathroom’s over there, you ought to wash your hands,” he added, pointing at one of the doors in the hallway.

Victor nodded and followed Yuuri’s advice, sitting down on the sofa when he was done. He looked nervous, visibly wanting to confess something, but seemed at loss for words. As such, a somewhat awkward silence filled the room, interrupted only by the soft purring of the kettle and Yuuri’s quiet humming.

He finally took a deep breath and began.

“Yuuri?” he asked, scratching the back of his head. “Uh…were you expecting any…deliveries tonight?”

The florist bridged his eyebrows in confusion. He shook his head and grabbed two medium mugs from the cupboard, as well as two different packets of tea.

“Not that I remember,” he replied, pouring hot water into both mugs. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s probably nothing…” Victor trailed off. “There might’ve been a misunderstanding.”

“Well, now you’ve piqued my interest,” Yuuri insisted, raising an eyebrow. “Also, would you like black tea or green tea?”

“Uh…green?” Victor guessed at random.

“Good choice,” Yuuri approved, satisfied. “Green tea for the win.”

He retrieved a small tray and placed the mugs on it, as well as a small jar of sugar and two teaspoons, before carefully carrying it to the coffee table.

“Alright, spill the tea,” he joked, before realizing his mistake and laughing. “Just, not literally, cause, goddamn, cleaning that stuff takes a _while_.”

“Okay,” Victor replied, chuckling. “Though, I don’t exclude the fact that I might’ve been hallucinating the whole time.”

“Welcome to the club, mate,” Yuuri commented, taking a sip. “But for me, it’s war flashbacks.”

“Okay…?” Victor muttered and took a deep breath. “So, as you may or may not know, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Really?”

“And something told me that I might pass out on the way here,” he carried on, disregarding Yuuri’s comment. “So, I grabbed a coffee at the café next to your store.”

“You shouldn’t drink coffee so late!” Yuuri exclaimed. “It’s not good for your health! You’ll get insomnia and look like you’ve gone on 15 rounds against a block of cement!”

“You…” Victor muttered, unconvinced. “You do realize how hypocritical that sounds, right?”

“Yes, fully,” Yuuri agreed, nodding. “But, by all means, carry on.”

“Either way, the café was about to close,” Victor remembered. “And there were no other customers other than me and one other person.”

“I’m guessing it’s our main star?” Yuuri asked, arching an eyebrow. “What did they look like?”

“It was a man in his mid-twenties, I think,” Victor pondered, running a hand through his unusually disheveled hair. “Uhm, he was fairly tall, he had a black undercut, some earrings…and a leather jacket.”

“Okay? What happened next?”

“Since the café closed, both of us walked out at the same time,” Victor said, taking his own mug. “I could’ve sworn I heard him muttering something along the lines of ‘damn, he ain’t there’. In any case, there were curse words involved.”

“How lovely,” Yuuri commented, visibly tensing up. “So, what’s the punchline?”

“I saw him walk across the street, towards your store,” Victor continued, observing Yuuri’s reaction. “He tried to pry the doors open, but since it was obviously closed, he just- Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you…” Yuuri said, before realizing that his hands were shaking. He cursed under his breath before turning his gaze to Victor. “It’s…a long story.”

“You can tell me anything, you know?” Victor assured, placing his hand over Yuuri’s. “I won’t judge.”

“Okay,” Yuuri sighed, offering Victor a weak smile. “But prior to that, I think that I owe you some general explanation, no?”

“Yes, context is much appreciated,” Victor nodded, smiling in return.

“So, you know how I can’t remember anything?” Yuuri asked. “Well, there’s an actual reason for it.”

“Wait, wait, wait, run that by me one more time,” Victor interrupted, bridging his eyebrows. “What do you mean you can’t…”

“I’m assuming you’ve figured it out by now,” Yuuri began. “But I used to be a skater, and a good one apparently.”

“Yeah, that moment when you landed a whole-ass Salchow without practice _really_ cleared things up for me,” Victor chuckled in disbelief. “What the fuck, dude?”

Upon hearing such an out-of-character phrase, Yuuri couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, wiping away tears. “I was running on three hours of sleep and instinct.”

“Then, carry on, please.”

“Right!” he nodded. “So, at some point, I…got hurt, I guess?”

“What do you mean, ‘guess’?” Victor asked, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“Well, _boku wa_ only remember waking up in a hospital,” Yuuri pondered. “I was told they had to put me in…uh…a _konsui_ , so that my brain could heal or whatever.”

“You sound like a weeb, I’m so sorry,” Victor commented, barely holding in his laughter.

“It ain’t my fault!” Yuuri argued. “I speak like two and a half languages and I suck in all of them!”

“Where did the half come from?” Victor questioned, laughing.

“French?”

“ _Ah, tiens, vous parlez Français?_ ” he said with a thick, indistinguishable accent. “ _Quelle joie! Quelle charmante surprise! Quelle extase!”_

“Okay, so, _that_?” Yuuri sighed, gesturing at Victor, who was choking back a laugh. “Stop that.”

“I can speak in Russian, if you’d prefer,” Victor winked, a sly smile on his lips.

“God, no!” Yuuri cried out in shock.

“Awe, okay,” Victor chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Carry on, I’m sorry.”

“Anyway!” Yuuri continued, his initial discomfort slowly dissipating. “According to…JJ, _Boku wa_ fell off a podium at some point?”

“E-eh, okay?”

“Yeah, and I’m assuming I was comatose for a _while_ ,” Yuuri muttered. “Cause when I woke up, it was in a hospital and my _onee-san_ was there.”

“You sound quite unsure,” Victor noticed, taking a sip of whatever was left of his tea.

“Yeah, well there’s a reason,” Yuuri explained, scratching the back of his neck. “I literally can’t remember _anything_.”

“How so?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have amnesia.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it took me a minute to believe it myself,” Yuuri sighed, biting his lip. “But that’s what it is, _Vic-kun_.”

“So…you can’t remember anything related to your career, then?” Victor asked, doing his best to disregard the obvious name Yuuri had called him.

“Yes, and that includes you,” Yuuri nodded. “We _have_ met before, haven’t we?”

“So it would seem…” Victor muttered. “Though, I don’t know how I managed to forget you.”

“Well, I do,” Yuuri retorted. “The day after I was discharged, I took the first plane to Japan with _onee-san._ I stayed there for about a year until I decided to come back to Vancouver, though not as a skater.”

“I see…” Victor said, scratching the back of his head. “Though, I do have one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you fall down the podium?” he asked, a confused expression on his features.

“While I honestly don’t remember,” Yuuri carefully began, running a hand through his now dry hair. “Phichit says that I was injured _before_ I even stepped on the ice.”

“Huh?” Victor exclaimed, puzzled. “But why would you actually skate if you were injured?”

“You’d have to ask Past Yuuri,” Yuuri shrugged. “Though I heard he was a bit of an arse.”

“That’s yourself you’re talking about, right?” Victor remarked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yep, deal with it.”

“How did you end up injured, though?” he asked.

“Again, not too sure, _but_ ,” Yuuri replied, slightly stuttering. “Phichit said it might’ve been…uhm… _Ezra._ ”

“Who?”

“Ezra,” he sighed, trying to suppress his shaking hands. “He was my boyfriend.”

The room fell into complete silence, and God, was Yuuri afraid of Victor’s reaction. He knew only too well that many people didn’t take such ‘confessions’ well. Anything could happen from this point forward. Victor could make up an urgent excuse and leave, or worse, never talk to him again.

Why did he even have to say that? He could’ve lied and said that Ezra was a mere acquaintance or a distant friend, but _no,_ he chose the hard way, didn’t he?

In that case, he was the one to blame. Victor probably hated him already and would…

“Why would it be your boyfriend?” Victor nonchalantly asked, snapping Yuuri out of his internal monologue. “Wasn’t he supposed to love you?”

Yuuri froze, unsure how to react. He was _immensely_ glad that Victor didn’t think any less of him, but felt his despair growing at his last question. He simply sighed and shook his head.

It was now Victor’s turn to be speechless, as he came to the painful realization that Yuuri might’ve- no, _was_ abused. Cold anger spread through his body as he discreetly clenched and unclenched his fists. To think that some _asshole_ would even consider…

“And…you think that this guy is the one I saw tonight?” he asked, taking a deep breath.

“It’s a strong possibility,” Yuuri sighed. “He might’ve come back for me.”

An uncontrollable urge to punch Ezra in the face clung to Victor like a parasite.

No, now was not the time for anger. What Yuuri needed now is support, not revenge. He sighed and offered the younger male a compassionate smile.

“I understand,” he assured. “I won’t pry it any further if you don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Thank you…” Yuuri muttered, smiling in return. “I appreciate it.”

They stayed silent for a few minutes, each consumed by his own thoughts until the florist spoke up softly.

“Could I ask you a question?”

“Yeah,” Victor shrugged.

“How did _you_ end up like this?”

“Like, in Canada?” Victor replied, arching an eyebrow. “Or, in general?”

“I mean…you were a World Champion,” Yuuri clarified. “Why did you stop?

“Well, I did tell you about it, didn’t I?” Victor chuckled, visibly getting nervous. “Did you forget _that_ too?”

“No, that I know, but…” Yuuri insisted, glowing with curiosity. “Why the heck were you practicing at the crack of dawn?”

“It’s…complicated,” Victor sighed.

“Well, I’d look like a _dick_ if I didn’t let you rant as well, so go ahead,” Yuuri assured, a smile on his lips. “I’ll go make more tea. Maybe even grab some sweets while I’m at it.”

“Ah…well,” Victor muttered, watching Yuuri go about his business. “Now, that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Precisely.”

“Alright, long story short,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “It happened right before the Grand Prix, two years ago.”

“Wait,” Yuuri accidentally interrupted. “So, that makes it around the same time as…”

“Yes, you’re right,” Victor nodded. “Though, mine was earlier than yours.”

“I see…go on.”

“Either way, something _bad_ happened to me,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “And, at the time, I felt like skating was the only thing that kept me going.”

“What about your family?” Yuuri innocently asked, carrying over a new tray to the table.

“I mean, Katherine helped me through, as well,” Victor replied, notes of melancholy in his voice. “But it was mostly my own battle.”

“Y’know, I can’t speak for you, but,” Yuuri pondered, sitting down. “My parents were always there for me, even when I thought that ending it all would be easier.”

“Ha…yeah,” Victor chuckled, smiling sadly. “That’s…nice.”

“Victor?” Yuuri suddenly called out, catching his friend’s attention.

“What?”

“Why are you crying?” he asked, ridden with worry.

“I’m not…” Victor muttered in confusion, before noticing the blights in his vision. “ _Fuck_ , I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize!” Yuuri exclaimed, unsure of what to do. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…just that…” Victor began, streams running down his cheeks. “It’s _Katherine_.”

“Did you guys get in an argument?” Yuuri suggested, carefully patting Victor’s shoulder.

“Y-yeah…” Victor nodded, choking back a sob. “It was really…messed up. She just started yelling at me right as I walked through the door, so I tried to defend myself, but _of course, that didn’t fucking work_ , so…”

“Does me patting your shoulder help?” Yuuri asked nervously.

“Sort of hurts, actually,” Victor confessed, cupping his face in his hands. “Please, stop.”

“Oh, fuck, okay,” Yuuri exclaimed, removing his hand. “Go on.”

“I said some hurtful things about her writing, and then…” Victor continued between gasps. “She spat out a comment about how my parents didn’t raise me properly.”

“That’s terrible!”

“You…don’t get it, do you?” Victor asked, glancing at the younger male. “My parents _died_.”

“Oh, shit,” Yuuri whispered, astounded. “That’s messed up.”

“Sure is…” Victor replied, chuckling sadly as his tears streamed down with no intent to stop. “It’s been two years now.”

“Oh…” Yuuri muttered before coming onto a brutal realization. “Oh, _no_.”

It all made sense now.

The reason why Victor was so hell-bent on skating in such a hard time, without taking care of himself was now so terribly clear.

Just like him, Victor used to live for skating. It used to be his second home, a safe haven of sorts. To think that he would be stripped of it in a heartbeat…

It made Yuuri want to cry as well.

He risked a look at his friend, whose face was buried in his hands, his platinum mess of hair flying each way but loose. He looked so tired; his skin was even more pale than usual.

It pained Yuuri to see Victor without his grin. His icy eyes that usually shined with joy, were now reflecting the emptiness in his soul. Yuuri didn’t like _any_ of it.

Sadly, deep down, he knew that he probably couldn’t help Victor in the long run. He knew only too well that grief is a hard process that everyone deals with their own way. He wasn’t even a psychiatrist; he’d be useless to Victor

Though, _maybe_ he didn’t have to be a specialist to help.

Maybe being himself was enough.

Without thinking, Yuuri engulfed Victor into a big hug.

“Yuuri?” Victor gasped in surprise. “What are you…”

“Shush, I’m helping,” Yuuri blushed, slightly weakening his grip, as to not hurt his friend. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“I thought you weren’t all that touchy,” Victor chuckled, returning the hug.

“It depends, really,” Yuuri explained, letting out a light laugh. “I can disregard my feelings for a minute if it means helping a friend.”

“Well…thank you,” Victor smiled, feeling heat creeping onto his cheeks. “That did help.”

He felt a comforting warmth inside his chest. As if thousands of little fireflies joyfully paraded around, lighting up everything in their way. He really couldn’t pinpoint what this feeling was, but somehow, it felt _right_.

Little did Victor know, Yuuri felt it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Finally, another big chunk! So, we finally have ourselves some *whispers* (Victuuri) and some backstory! It took me a bit longer to write than I expected, but it's ready now, so I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Speaking of which, we're about halfway through the book, because I anticipate about 30-40 chapters (it depends, really) and I'm really excited for the next few chapters. Can you guess what will happen? :P
> 
> If you liked it, please don't forget to sprinkle some kudos and comments, because I am literally uploading this at 11 P.M and jeez, am I tired.
> 
> See ya!


	16. Breaking Through The Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter(s) might contain coarse language :P

Yuuri quietly sang to himself as he let his pencil glide over his sketchbook, his imagination flowing loose. Meek little rays of sun escaped through the cracks in the curtains, reflecting cute rainbows on the glass vases on the shelves.

A peaceful atmosphere filled the room as happy music softly echoed throughout his store. It was just past noon and Yuuri was enjoying a calm, somewhat lonely day. Usually, he’d be freaked out if there weren’t any customers for more than an hour, but today, he chose to focus on finalizing his remaining commissions, that have slowly but surely been accumulating over the past few weeks.

He huffed in frustration as his hair fell over his eyes, partially blocking out his vision. It was getting a bit too long, wasn’t it? He ought to get a haircut eventually, or else he might end up looking like a mop. Isn’t that what his sister used to call his hair when they were both kids?

Yuuri let out a light chuckle as the nostalgic memory resurfaced, plastering a grin onto his tired features.

“Whacha’ laughing at?” a young woman suddenly asked as she opened the door of the shop, the doorbell’s frantic ringing overriding the sweet music.

“Oh- um, nothing,” Yuuri replied, somewhat distraught.

He awkwardly put away his sketchbook and watched as the woman aimlessly walked around the store, her eyes seeming to analyze every nook and cranny. He immediately noticed her chestnut brown hair, riddled with flashy strikes of a neon pink hue. Her red flannel slightly fluttered as she softly leaped from place to place, clearly questing for something.

“Can I…help you?” he asked, catching the young woman’s attention. “Is there anything you need?”

“Yeah, actually!” she joyfully replied, bouncing to Yuuri’s desk. Her freckled nose scrunched up as her lips sprawled in a smug grin. “So, my girlfriend’s birthday is comin’ up and I need something _amazing_ for her.”

“I see!” Yuuri said, nodding. “Would you like a pre-made bouquet or…”

“No, no, I need something _special_ ,” she exclaimed, unknowingly interrupting the florist mid-sentence, laughing awkwardly as she realized her mistake. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I’m Cassidy, by the way, but my friends just call me Cas.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuuri said, flashing a sincere smile. “I’m Yuuri.”

“So, Yuuri,” Cassidy began, seriously this time. “Could you arrange something with a _hidden message_?” She spoke in a low tone, almost whispering at the last bit.

“Well, it depends on the message,” Yuuri explained, slightly chuckling. “Though, usually, it turns out quite well.”

“Nice,” Cassidy trailed off, a satisfied grin on her face. “Then a lovey-dovey message surely won’t be a problem to you.”

“Nope, it won’t,” Yuuri shook his head, a smile creeping onto his features. “Though, a bouquet _does_ need to have a theme, no?”

“Like in a dancing routine?” Cassidy asked excitedly, arching an eyebrow. “There’s a lot of different themes in dancing, you know?”

“Yeah, I’d imagine so,” Yuuri agreed. “And bouquets are no exception. What kind of theme would you want?”

“Something happy!” Cassidy exclaimed, her voice a bit louder than she had initially intended. She laughed awkwardly and muttered a small ‘sorry’. “I want something happy and energetic.'

“Alright,” Yuuri said, pulling out a small catalog. “Honestly, the first thing that comes to mind would be a mix of daisies and maybe some roses.”

“Oh?” Cassidy chirped, her big emerald eyes glowing with child-like curiosity. “What do they mean?”

He had really taken a liking to this girl. He could feel pure happiness radiating from her. Her personality somewhat reminded him of Phichit. It’s like they were two peas in a pod.

Yuuri opened his mouth to explain when he was brutally interrupted by a far too familiar voice.

“Yuuri, holy _crap_!” Phichit exclaimed, nearly knocking the door down, sending the doorbell into a frenzy. The strident noise echoed throughout the room, inadvertently making Yuuri cringe.

Speak of the devil, huh.

“Can you believe this?” Phichit went on, not letting Yuuri even say a word. “Skate Canada is in like a _week_!”

“I’m kind of busy-“ Yuuri tried to interject but got interrupted again.

“What do you _mean_ , you’re busy?” Phichit asked, offended. “Don’t you want to watch your best friend forever and ever skate to a routine he has spent _months_ on?”

“Can we please talk about this later?” Yuuri plead, apologetically glancing at Cassidy. “Like, after my shift?”

“Fine,” Phichit uttered in frustration. “Meet me at the café after ya finish.”

He vanished just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving a heavy silence after himself.

“Oh, my God, I am _so_ sorry,” Yuuri apologized, rubbing his temples. “I…I don’t know what came over him.”

“Now that I think of it,” Cassidy pondered, her lips forming into a small pout. “He looks oddly familiar. Is he like…famous or something?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Yuuri replied, scratching the back of his neck. “He’s quite the star in the skating world.”

“Oh, yeah! I think I know of him,” Cassidy exclaimed, satisfied. “I might’ve seen him on TV.”

“That’s highly possible,” Yuuri agreed, nodding. “So, if you don’t mind, shall we carry on?”

“We shall!”

* * *

The rest of the day proved to be incredibly dull and uneventful. As Yuuri closed the shop for the day, only one thing was on his mind. He tossed his backpack on his shoulder and sighed in dismay.

What was it that Phichit wanted to tell him?

Clearly, it was important enough for his friend to rush in mid-shift, but then again, he does that for the most insignificant reasons ever. One day, he even came in completely disheveled because they were out of sauce at Thai Express…

Yuuri sighed and walked towards the café across the street, already able to hear the merry chit-chat of its customers, despite the loud roaring of the cars echoing all around him. A pleasant warm light radiated from the windows, casting distorted flares on the already darkened pavement.

With great difficulty, he had finally managed to discern his friend, sitting in a booth next to the window. To his surprise, he’d also spotted a flash of platinum blonde across Phichit.

Looks like Victor was here too…that can only go well.

Yuuri’s expression reflectively scrunched in a mix of despair and disbelief as he soundlessly made his way towards the table where his friends sat, remaining unseen thanks to the abundant clientele.

It was Sunday, after all. Who wouldn’t want to spend their afternoon lounging away in a comfortable spot, leisurely chatting, a coffee in hand?

Well, he surely didn’t.

Truth is, he hated crowded spaces with a burning passion. It always felt like there just wasn’t enough air for everybody, and no matter what, you couldn’t isolate yourself from the low hum of chatter, clinging to your ears like a blight. The only reason he’d agreed to meet up at the café was to get Phichit to leave without causing further distraction.

He loved Phichit. He really did. It’s just that sometimes, his energy was a bit too much to handle.

His friends seemed to be immersed in a quite interesting conversation because he could see their facial expressions shift through the entire spectrum of emotions in a matter of seconds.

Somehow, that made him feel queasy.

“Yo, Yuuri!” he heard Phichit call out, exaggeratedly waving his arm. “You actually came!”

“What? Did you think I’d leave you hanging?” Yuuri asked, mildly offended, as he took a spot next to Phichit, greeting Victor in the process.

The booth fell into complete silence. Yuuri watched as his friends glanced at each other in complicity as if plotting a mischievous plan behind his back.

Eventually, he got fed up with this peeping game and decided to speak up.

“So? What is it you wanted to tell me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

He didn’t get an answer.

“I swear to God…” Yuuri muttered, sighing in annoyance. He ran a hand through his messy hair and stood up. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink with at least two shots of espresso, and when I’m back, you’re better be talking.”

“Sure, sure,” Victor innocently mused, making Yuuri cringe.

What the hell was up with those two?

About ten minutes later, Yuuri came back carrying a large cup of what appeared to be iced coffee. He took a long sip of his drink and sat down, expectantly arching an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t drink coffee so late, y’know?” Phichit commented disapprovingly, making Yuuri roll his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s right,” Victor agreed, barely holding in his laughter. “You’ll get insomnia and end up looking like…oh, what was it…like you’ve gone on 15 rounds against a block of cement?”

Yuuri’s face reflexively scrunched up in irritation.

“Okay, you know what?” he spoke up, rubbing his temples in disgust. “I came here because you asked me to, and not so y’all can gang up on me.”

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Victor chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s just that Phichit-“

“Shush!” Phichit exclaimed, interrupting Victor mid-sentence. “He’s gotta realize his mistake by himself!”

“What mistake?” Yuuri snapped. “I didn’t do anything! You’re the one that barged into my store and began yelling about Skate Canada! What the heck does it have to do with me?”

Phichit only huffed and rolled his eyes in response, obviously frustrated with his friend. Once again, an uncomfortable silence filled the booth, as each was concentrated on his own thoughts.

“Whoa, isn’t that Chris?” Victor suddenly asked, gluing his face to the window. “Phichit, come look!”

“No way!” Phichit said, imitating the silver-haired man. “It really is him!”

“Who?” Yuuri asked, a confused look on his tired features.

He got no answer, because both of his friends unceremoniously stormed outside, leaving him behind. He let out a large sigh and laid down on the table, facing the window.

Yuuri silently watched as Victor swiftly crossed the street, exaggeratedly waving to a tall slender figure who seemed to be skulking away next to his shop, abruptly twirling around when he noticed the two men approaching him. They all exchanged a warm hug and handshake, clearly happy to see one another.

The florist’s mood somehow managed to get even worse.

He cursed under his breath and stood up, deciding that whatever it is that Phichit wanted to tell him can wait until tomorrow morning, and promptly left the café. He considered disappearing without waving goodbye, but whatever was left of his common courtesy suggested otherwise. This brief moment of hesitation was unfortunately his downfall.

“Yuuri! Wait!” he heard Victor yell. Or was it Phichit? He couldn’t tell. Either way, he reluctantly turned around and spotted three people running towards him, one of which was probably ‘Chris’.

“What is it?” Yuuri sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I ain’t got all night, you know?”

“Yo, Yuuri, nice to see you’re not dead,” Chris said in a low, almost seductive voice, putting his hand up for what seemed like a high-five. It was a tall man, maybe in his mid-twenties. He had delicate, yet masculine features, complimented by his short dyed hair. He was wearing what looked like an expensive jacket and leather pants.

Safe to say, this man had money.

“Yea, I get that a lot,” Yuuri muttered emotionlessly, not even considering returning Chris’ high-five. “Who the shit are you?”

“Sheesh, Yuuri, chillax,” Phichit chuckled, ruffling his friend’s hair, who didn’t seem too entertained by that otherwise kind gesture. “Don’t you remember-“

“I’m just gonna’ cut you off with a ‘no’,” Yuuri shot back, flipping his hood on in annoyance. “I believe you know the reason.”

“Ya haven’t changed at all, Yuuri,” Chris chuckled. “Save maybe for the glasses…and your hair.”

“Don’t you talk about my hair.”

“What about your hair?” Victor chirped in, his icy eyes glowing with curiosity.

Phichit let out a meaningful chuckle, earning a dirty look from Yuuri.

“Don’t you dare,” The florist hissed, putting emphasis on every word.

“So, Yuuri used to have blue hair!” Phichit cried out, skillfully ducking away from Yuuri’s shove that would otherwise have sent him flying onto the pavement.

“ _Seriously_?” Victor exclaimed, wide-eyed. “How come I didn’t know of this?”

“You probably forgot,” Yuuri muttered, walking away. “Ciao, y’all. I’m outta’ here,” he announced, loosely waving a hand.

Of course, his solitude didn’t last, because he heard approaching footsteps and loud voices a few seconds later.

“ _Yuuri_ , don’t leave us,” Phichit almost whined and clutched himself onto the florist’s free arm. “Let’s go to the park.”

He didn’t grant him an answer, simply sighing and carrying along his way, dedicated to ignoring his leech of a friend clinging onto him.

“Hey, Phichit, I think it’s easier to just tell him,” Victor suggested, chuckling lightly. “He looks like he’s gonna give up on all of us.”

“What’s this about?” Chris asked curiously. “Has our ‘Little Yuuri’ done something bad again?”

Yuuri was just about to cuss at the audacity of this man when Phichit interrupted him.

“So, good ol’ Yuuri here,” he began with a somewhat condescending voice. “Is not willing to find the time to watch his _bestest_ friend skate!”

“Really?” Chris hummed, disappointed. “You’re more self-conceited than I remember.”

“It’s an important competition, y’know,” Victor shrugged, glancing at Yuuri’s unimpressed expression. “Even I’m going, and God knows I have nothing to do there.”

“Why don’t you wanna come?” Phichit pleaded. “You know it means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of an arse now.”

Yuuri has had about enough.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaimed in frustration, abruptly turning around. “Who the fuck said that I wasn’t going?”

“Don’t you fucking curse!” Phichit shot back, offended, before realizing his mistake. “You literally said that you were busy!”

“I said that because I was helping _a customer_ , Christ’s sake!” Yuuri clarified, vexed.

“ _Oh,_ ” Phichit uttered, as the newly obtained information sank in. “So…you’re coming?”

“Yes…yes, I am,” Yuuri sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why would I not? I ain’t the one skating, am I?”

“Oh, that makes _so much_ more sense,” Victor laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“Glad we're all friends now,” Chris chirped, suddenly passing an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, making him cringe.

“Mhm…best day of my life,” Yuuri muttered sarcastically, retrieving his phone out of his pocket.

He bridged his eyebrows. There was a new message for him. He clicked on the notification, promptly transferring to the messenger app.

Yuuri glanced at the text message. It was from an unknown number.

His heart dropped.

**Unknown Number: See you soon, Yuuri… **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have returned, huzzah! Chris finally makes his star appearance and things are slowly getting heated up! It was a bit of a difficult one to write because I couldn't figure out how to word stuff and had a lot more matters to attend to, hence the delay. I need a break too, y'know?
> 
> If you enjoyed, please consider sprinkling some kudos and comments because I live for your feedback, it really makes me happy. I want to personally thank each and every one of you that left me kudos and/or comments and gave my story a chance. You're the best <3
> 
> Thank you~


	17. A Glint Of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that are confused, I ended up changing the title cause I felt like it didn't sit too well with the chapter's contents...

The rumbling of countless cars echoed all throughout the busy highways as light showers covered everything in their way, hitting the vehicles with a soft pitter-patter. Large gray clouds dominated most of the sky as the fog stubbornly clung to the air, worsened by the outstanding quantity of smog in the atmosphere. It was clear as day; Autumn was coming.

Such weather was natural in a vastly populated city like Vancouver. Like any other worthy metropolis, it had its own labyrinths of endless roads and bridges, all somehow connected through twists and loops. Unless a driver knew the highways well or at least had a good GPS, it would be only a matter of time until they wound up somewhere in the outskirts of the city, in the middle of literal nowhere.

Luckily, Yuuri wasn’t the one driving, so he didn’t need to worry about getting lost. He laid his head on the window of Victor’s car, lazily watching the heated race of myriads of water droplets flying by, sighing in disappointment when his favourite droplet faded away.

“You alright?” Victor asked, glancing at the florist. Truth be told, he was a little worried about him. After all, he was about to step back into a world that he had given up on for several years, so it would be perfectly understandable for him to be feeling unwell.

“Yeah…I think,” Yuuri sheepishly muttered, not even looking back at Victor. He softly traced the thin stream left by one of the drops and propped his chin up with his hand. “I’m just nervous, I guess.”

“Figures,” Victor shrugged, running his free hand through his hair, as his bangs were uncomfortably falling on his face, partially blocking his sight. “Everyone’s probably gonna’ recognize you, there’s gonna be journalists and photographers all over the place, not to mention the fans.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding,” Yuuri replied sarcastically, recoiling in his seat. “But unwanted attention isn’t the only thing I’m worried about.”

“Oh? What else is there?” Victor asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure it’s nothing, though,” Yuuri sighed, shaking his head. “I’m probably overreacting like I usually am.”

“Well, it must be important if you’re concerned,” Victor pondered, signaling that he was changing lanes. He could already see the sign for the exit that they had to take, which was but a few miles away. They’d reach their destination in just five to ten minutes.

“I really don’t want to bother you with unnecessary crap, though,” Yuuri argued, pitifully glancing at the taller man.

“Fine,” Victor sighed. “Just tell me if anything comes up, alright?”

The florist nodded in satisfaction and the rest of the way flew by in complete silence.

The first thing that Yuuri has noticed as they walked into the Rogers Arena was an abnormally large amount of gazes pointed at them. There were dozens, no, almost hundreds of wide-open eyes and agape mouths.

What the hell has he gotten himself into? He hoped to God or whoever the hell was up there that those looks were not for him, but for Victor.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t that much of a stretch. After all, Phichit and many other acquaintances of his told him time and time again how much he has changed since he retired, appearance, and personality alike. Even his older sister Mari, who he only saw during the holidays, didn’t waste a moment commenting on how much softer and ‘boring’ he had become. If it was anyone else talking, he’d immediately cut ties with that person, but since it was his sister, he perfectly understood what she meant. Apparently, they used to be quite close before the accident, which is quite weird, considering that their personalities are extremely different. Mari was always more temperamental and ‘edgy’, while Yuuri himself was just…Yuuri.

Was it always that way?

The already way too loud chit-chat has somehow evolved into exclamations and squeals as a wave of unknown people rushed over to them. Yuuri let out a shaky breath and instinctively clutched Victor’s jacket, almost hiding behind him. He was hell-bent on passing unnoticed.

Victor, however, was having the time of his life. He joyfully answered question after question as the sea of people around him only grew bigger. How could he be so relaxed? His carefree attitude made Yuuri feel even worse. A gloomy feeling clung to his chest as he watched his friend talking to a group of fangirls, who clearly didn’t have enough common decency to not outright _flirt_ with Victor.

Yuuri cringed. Do they even know they’re talking to an almost married man? The nerve of some people…

The ex-skater’s blissful solitude eventually came to a very rough halt when someone near him shouted “Hey, isn’t this Katsuki Yuuri?”

God damn it.

The next few minutes were somewhat of a hazy mess, as Yuuri tried his best answering all sorts of questions, ranging anywhere from “What have you been up to for the past two years?” to “Are you ever going to return to skating again?”

This was excruciating. He felt like death warmed over, and he probably looked the part too.

It was only a matter of time before he got pulled into an unwanted interview with a far too joyful journalist.

“Mr. Katsuki, it’s so nice to finally see you all good and well!” the man exclaimed, gesturing at the cameraman in front of him, as if Yuuri couldn’t see him already. “How do you feel about returning back to the skating world?”

“Uhm, I feel a little nervous,” Yuuri sheepishly replied, forcing a natural smile. “But I’m glad that people still remember me.”

“Of course they do!” the journalist chirped. “After all, you did set an incredible record with your ‘History Maker’ two years ago, that, might I add, still remains unbeaten to this day!”

A wave of calmness suddenly submerged Yuuri. He felt oddly relaxed and was even able to crack a sincere smile. It almost felt like someone foreign to him took over his mind and body, and yet, it seemed so familiar.

“Oh, damn, really?” he retorted with a satisfied smirk. “The new skaters really need to one-up their game. I wasn’t even that good!”

“Only you could say such a thing with such confidence, Mr. Katsuki,” the journalist commented, letting out a hearty laugh. “I gotta say, everyone misses you. After that god-awful accident, you just disappeared! I think that everyone wants to know what actually happened to you. Could you explain?”

“Honestly, it’s as much of a mystery for me as it is for you,” Yuuri sighed, instinctively running a hand through his hair. “All I remember is waking up in the hospital and my sister telling me that I’ve been in a coma for two weeks.”

“Oh my! This is certainly a surprise!” the interviewer exclaimed, taken aback. “How come no one was aware of this?”

“Well, you see,” Yuuri began, feigning remorse. “I just had to get away from everything for some time. I needed to recover privately if that makes sense.”

“Of course, Mr. Katsuki, that’s quite understandable,” the man nodded. “I trust you’re all healthy now?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Yuuri pondered. “Save maybe for one thing.”

“And what would that be?”

* * *

Victor eventually found Yuuri curled up on a bench, far away from the main hall.

“Well, that was fun,” he chuckled, not yet noticing the florist’s disheveled state. “How are you?”

“I shouldn’t have told them about the amnesia,” Yuuri quietly replied with a soulless expression.

“The…what?” Victor asked, taken aback. “What amnesia?”

Yuuri slowly lift his head to face his friend with an ‘are-you-serious’ look of disgust.

“Unless I fell off the stairs on my way here,” he began, rubbing his temples. “I’m fairly _fucking_ sure that I’ve told you about it.”

“I…don’t remember, though” Victor uttered, sitting down next to Yuuri.

“How ironic…” Yuuri sighed, granting Victor a condescending, yet playful look. “Jeez, you’re hopeless.”

“Oh, come on,” Victor whined. “Don’t be a bitch.”

Yuuri let out a maniacal laugh and stood up.

“Nah, mate,” he nonchalantly tossed, making his way towards the main hall. “You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to.”

“Hey!” Victor exclaimed, catching up to Yuuri. “At least wait for me.”

“I’m going to see Phichit now,” Yuuri said as he scanned the signs for the backrooms. “Wanna come?”

“What kinda question is that?” Victor shot back, smirking. “You do know which way to go, right?”

“Nope!” Yuuri proudly beamed, skillfully ducking away from yet another group of underage girls. “Phichit never did actually tell me the way.”

“Sheesh, really?” Victor sighed, grabbing a map from a nearby table and flipping it open. In no time, he had found the area that they’ve been questing for. He called Yuuri over and pointed at the printout. “It’s in the eastern wing. I’ll lead the way.”

Yuuri nodded and they quickly made their way towards the ‘staff only’ parts, easily passing through thanks to their so-called ‘celebrity status’. After all, they just wanted to see their former colleagues. What was so bad about that?

Something that seemed like a lounge unraveled in front of them. It was a vast open space with several intertwining hallways, all leading to different parts of the arena. In the middle of the room stood a small agglomeration of armchairs and couches, facing either each other or the TVs hung all over the place. Yuuri let out a shaky breath. There was something so foreign yet incredibly familiar about this place. He felt his heart aching and burning, as if thousands of little fireflies were hell-bent on setting him aflame.

Victor must’ve seen it too because he suddenly gave Yuuri a light pat on the shoulder and softly whispered.

“Don’t worry, _solnyshko_ , it’ll be okay.”

If only he knew what that word meant. Yuuri could only assume that it must be something in Russian. He really ought to look it up eventually.

He didn’t have time to think anymore, because he suddenly felt himself engulfed in the biggest bear hug ever.

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, nearly squeezing the life out of his poor friend. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“H-hey,” the florist weakly muttered, barely able to return the hug. “Bro, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, crap, sorry,” Phichit chuckled, easing his grip. “I’m just a little excited, is all.”

“You feeling ready, Phichit?” Victor asked, keeping an eye out for a Yuuri’s comedic wheezing. “Not too overwhelmed?”

“Not at all!” Phichit proudly said, before coming upon a realization. “Oh, wait! You haven’t met the others yet, have you?”

“Was…I supposed to?” Yuuri carefully asked, nervously looking at Victor.

“Uh, yes!” Phichit retorted matter-of-factly and grabbed Yuuri’s hand, gesturing Victor to come with. “C’mon, they don’t even know you’re still alive!”

“ _I’m so tired of being here_ …” Yuuri melancholically mused as he was dragged away, followed by Victor who could barely hold in his laughter.

They passed through what seemed like interminable hallways until they eventually reached another lounge, which was quite similar to the first one. The only difference was that this room wasn’t empty. Around half a dozen of skaters lingered around, some chatting with each other, others confiding in their coaches or simply chilling alone. They still had some free time to spare, since the event wouldn’t start for another hour.

Yuuri froze. Never had his mind been such a mess.

Flashes of shattered memories pricked at his mind as he slowly took in the unknown, yet probably far too familiar faces of the skaters in front of them

Luckily, they haven’t been noticed yet. Maybe he could feign sickness and run off to the bathroom until the competition starts? That wasn’t such a bad idea. If only he could vanish without any witnesses.

“Chris! My dude, how are you?” Victor joyfully exclaimed, calling over his friend from the other side of the room, consequently catching everyone’s attention.

Well, that was a failure.

“Yo, Vic! What’s up?” Chris replied, engulfing the silver-haired man in a hug. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you in a rink.”

“It feels good to be back,” Victor laughed and nodded towards Yuuri. “This one’s, however, not doing too well.” 

“Yuuri’s here too!” Chris gasped and once again put his hand up for a high-five, hoping for a positive result.

“Huzzah…” Yuuri soullessly muttered, weakly returning the high-five, making Chris yell out a very excited ‘yes!’.

“I’m giving Yuuri a tour,” Phichit chuckled, passing an arm around his chiffon doll of a friend. “Telling people that he’s alive and stuff. Y’know, the usual.”

“Oh, yeah!” Chris exclaimed, stretching out the ‘e’. “They don’t really know, do they?”

“Nope!” Phichit stated. “So, I come to them bearing news of the return of the King!”

“Please never say that ever again,” Yuuri quietly muttered, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t even fuckin’ remember them, oh my God.”

“Well…then I won’t hold you back any further,” Chris replied, exchanging a complicit look with Phichit. “I wish you, gentlemen, safe luck upon your journey!”

“Much obliged,” Phichit thanked with an exaggerated British accent, much to Yuuri’s dismay. “Fare you well, good sir.”

“What is wrong with y’all today?” Yuuri commented with disgust in his voice. “At least _Vic-Kun_ here is being a normal human being.”

“What did you just call me?” Victor curiously asked, flashing a smirk.

“Nothing, shut up.”

“Yikes, okay.” he cringed, and the trio fell into silence.

“U-Uhm, e-excuse me!” a voice suddenly exclaimed somewhere behind them. “A-are you… _Katsuki-san_?”

Who the hell would unironically use Japanese honorifics on Canadian soil?

Yuuri not so gracefully twirled around to face what seemed to be a boy somewhat younger than him. He was quite short too, everything in his appearance reflected an energetic and bubbly personality, from his flashy costume to his messy blonde hair, fiddled with red streaks. Was he a skater? He looked like he’d barely fit in the senior league, though.

“That’s me,” Yuuri replied, arching an eyebrow. “Do we…know each other?”

“Yes!” the young man exclaimed, before realizing he was a little out of line. “Err, I mean, no. Well, maybe…that depends.”

Yuuri didn’t answer, contemplating whether or not it was too late to run away.

“A-anyway!” the skater continued, jumping on his tiptoes from excitement. “I just wanted to say that I’ve been your biggest fan ever since I started skating! Your routines inspired me so much!"

“I…uh, thank you?” Yuuri uttered, confused, but the boy didn’t stop there.

“You’re so cool! You never let anything get in your way! That’s so awesome!” he beamed, his large eyes sparkling with admiration. “I’m so glad to have finally talked to you! You know, I could never approach you because of how cool you looked. I always felt like I shouldn’t bother you. But now, I know that you don’t mind! Thank you so much, _Katsuki-San_!”

“What the fuck was that?” Yuuri asked Phichit, letting out a shaky sigh when the small ball of energy had long vanished.

“That, oh child, was little Minami Kenjirou,” Phichit replied, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I remember you telling me about him a couple of years back, when you met him on the Nationals. I’m impressed he made it to the Grand Prix. Not that he doesn’t deserve it or anything. He’s one hardworking guy.”

“Oh God, I don’t remember him, I feel so bad,” Yuuri uttered, going pale. “I can’t believe I had a fan.”

Victor let out a far too out-of-character laugh.

“ _A_ fan? You’re in for a rude awakening, _chuvak_ ,” he replied before happily gasping. “Oh, isn’t that our _Yurio_?”

He turned out to be correct because just a few feet away from them stood the familiar blonde teenager, who seemed to be deeply immersed in a conversation with another skater. Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes. Was Yurio actually… _laughing_?

It didn’t last long though, because as soon as Victor called him over, the usual scowl once again set on his features.

“ _Whaddya_ want, old man?” Yuri snapped, switching to his native tongue. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Calm down, Yurio,” Victor chuckled, once again unperturbed by the teenager’s angry attitude. “We’re just here to say hello.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” Yurio snarled, angrily bridging his eyebrows. “I finally have a friend again. Don’t you ruin this for me.” 

“Sorry, Yuri,” Yuuri quickly apologized, stepping in between the two Russian men. “We won’t bother you anymore.”

“Oh, hey, Yuuri!” Yurio grinned, putting his hand up for a fist bump, which the florist awkwardly returned. The teenager completely flipped his switch. It’s like it was a completely different person. “Ya’ doing good?”

_What?_

“Yea, just chillin’,” Yuuri replied, desperately trying to mimic the blonde’s offhand attitude. “And you? Not too freaked out?”

“Nah, mate, not me,” Yuri proudly scoffed. “You better watch, cause I’m gonna get that gold medal no matter what.”

Despite his lax appearance, Yuuri was extremely confused. Why was this overly emotional child speaking to him as if he’d known him for years, having already built a trusty friendship on a foundation of mutual interests? Yet another mystery of life…

“Damn right,” he chuckled, trying to sound confident. “I believe in you.”

“Thanks,” Yurio laughed and suddenly patted the florist on the shoulder. “I gotta get back to Otabek, so see ya around!”

Yuuri waved goodbye and the blonde walked away with a light spring in his step.

“I’m jealous…” Victor whined, shaking his head. “Yurio’s always so mean to me. How did you make him like you?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri shrugged. “Or rather…I probably don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t,” Phichit chuckled, shaking his head. “But I do!”

“I hope you also know how much of a mess my mind is right now,” Yuuri shivered, clutching himself tightly. “I mean, I know that I’m probably a few brain cells short and really not in my best state of mind anymore, not that I ever have been, but that’s not the point right now. The point is, this is tipping the scales! I don’t remember diddly squat and I’m supposed to slap on a smile and parade around, acting all friendly with people that have already become strangers to me? Yes, I know, I get flashbacks every now and then, but they’re not going to conveniently appear every time I meet someone new like some kind of fucking video game hint!”

“Sweet merciful Buddha, Yuuri, shut the fuck up,” Phichit softly uttered, leaving Victor speechless.

“Don’t you fucking curse, Phichit, there are cameras everywhere,” Yuuri warned before growing silent for a few moments, until he came upon a terrifying realization. “Oh, god, there are cameras everywhere.”

“Okay, you know what?” Victor interjected, gently placing his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “I think that’s enough meet-and-greets for today. Why don’t we go take our spots? The event will start soon.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” Yuuri nodded and gave Victor a weak smile. He turned around to face Phichit. “I can’t wait to see your routine! You better make me super proud, yeah?”

“You best believe I will!” Phichit chuckled, ruffling his friend’s unruly hair. “Go on, before it gets any busier!”

They soon bid each other farewell and went off in opposite directions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is the first part of what I initially intended to be a whole chapter, but there was just way too much that I had to fit in. The second part will be uploaded today in just a few hours!
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the story so far, now that we've introduced more of the OG cast! Please consider sprinkling some kudos and comments because I live for your love!
> 
> Do you have any theories regarding the story? I'd love to hear it~


	18. Back Into The Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mild violence and depictions of blood + graphic language.

Just as Yuuri and Victor were about to exit the “staff only” area, they got startled by another person barging in.

It was a young man who looked like a skater, manifested by his “Czech Republic” sports jacket. He had thick dark blonde hair that circled around his face through heavy sideburns and a beard just as thick. His eyes were blue. _Very_ blue. Not icy blue like Victor’s, though. No, these were of a comforting indigo shade, bringing a nice touch to the man’s slightly tan face. As soon as this stranger noticed them, his lips sprawled in a happy grin.

“Holy heck-nuggets! A walking corpse!” the man exclaimed, lightly shaking a very confused Yuuri by the shoulders. “Yuuri! My dude, how you doing?”

What was it with people invading his personal space today?

“Uh…good?” Yuuri uttered, taken aback. He could’ve sworn he heard Victor chucking under his breath. That bastard. “Do we…know each other?”

“Ah, Yuuri, you’re still quite the trickster,” the stranger laughed, clearly finding the situation funny. “Always ready to crack a joke, aren’t ya?”

“I’m sorry…uh…Mr. Emil Nekola,” Yuuri said, discreetly glancing at the man’s name tag. “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”

“Jeez! You must’ve hit your head really hard if you used honorifics on me!” Emil cried out, grabbing his head in shock. “Ya ain’t joking then?”

“No, I’m not,” Yuuri sadly replied. “But it was nice to see someone that I used to be close with!”

“Likewise, dude,” Emil grinned and exchanged a brief conversation with Victor before carrying on his way.

“So, what was so funny?” Yuuri suddenly asked Victor as they made their way through lonely hallways.

“What do you mean?” Victor shot back defensively, puzzled by the sudden question.

“Is it entertaining to watch me helplessly trying to maintain a proper human interaction with people I haven’t seen for years and have forgotten about?”

“Good God, Yuuri, you’re overthinking it,” Victor sighed and ran a hand through his hair in dismay. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“I wasn’t aware that laughing at someone else’s embarrassment was no longer considered ‘making fun of them’,” Yuuri let out sarcastically and quickened his pace. “Thanks for the clarification.”

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” Victor warned, trying to catch up to the florist.

“I have eyes, thanks.” Yuuri retorted, but unfortunately, his feet got tangled in a stray trash can and he ungracefully fell to the floor.

Well, he would have, if not for Victor’s strong arm catching him right before he hit the ground.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch where you’re going?” the silver-haired man reprimanded in a calm but rigid voice, glaring at Yuuri with his disapproving cold eyes, still not letting the younger male out of his grasp. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Let go of me,” Yuuri demanded just as firmly, despite the redness of his cheeks. “Please,” he added, more softly and Victor obeyed, muttering a small ‘sorry’ in the process.

The rest of the path was filled with incredibly heavy and awkward silence. None of them dared to voice their thoughts, probably feeling too overwhelmed by their own concerns. Yuuri, by the possible threat, looming over him, and Victor, by his own stupid actions towards Yuuri.

The arena was already half full when they had finally found their spots. The crowd, though incomplete, was bubbling with excitement, anticipating the long-awaited beginning of what would be yet another Grand Prix series. Today, it was only the Short Program, and the Free Program would be in the next few days, if not tomorrow.

Loud chatter echoed throughout the vast arena, morphing into a low hum, to the point of becoming barely discernible. There was but a dozen minutes left until the event started, and the massive speakers were warmly welcoming the audience as the arena got fuller and fuller.

Eventually, the magical moment happened. The lights died down and a large spotlight was cast onto the ice, making it sparkle and shine brightly.

“Huh, at least the ice is slippery,” Yuuri caught himself mumbling under his breath, before biting his lip and letting out a loud sigh.

"Are you okay?” Victor asked with slight concern.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri nodded, hoping that Victor hadn’t heard whatever stupidity he had said prior.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first event of the long-awaited Grand Prix series!” the host announced joyfully. “The Rogers Arena gladly welcomes you to such a beautiful event!”

He went on with some basic exposition of the competition, explaining the way it will unfold and at what time one should expect it to be over. Yuuri realized that most of it seemed incredibly familiar to him. It’s almost like he, himself, had witnessed dozens of competitions such as this one.

The host finished off with the order in which their former colleagues will perform in. Victor was pleasantly surprised to hear that Yurio will get to go first. After all, this petulant child had been dreaming of a big debut to the Senior League. He wanted to “enter with a kick and knock ‘em all out” as he had himself so eloquently expressed.

The commotion soon died down and a small slender figurine gracefully skated to the middle of the arena, seeming that much smaller due to the ice’s magnitude.

He was gorgeous.

His long blonde hair was carefully laced in a French braid, revealing his big emerald eyes, now devoid of the usual smug frown. The costume he wore was just as amazing, though. It was a tight-fitting one-piece outfit made with red and white hues, covered in myriads of fake gems all over his shoulders and chest. The bareback was beautifully tied with white ribbon and pieces of lace hung around his wrists and ankles.

Yuuri was speechless. He couldn’t believe Victor could have designed something like this.

The first notes of the music echoed all over the arena, bewitching the hearts of the audience as Yuri gracefully moved around the ice with such skill and passion that no one would ever think that he was merely 15 years old.

All of his jumps were executed with incredible sharpness and precision. It was so enticing, just like watching the famous performance of Russia’s _Bolshoi Ballet_ , but then again, it was probably the point.

The crowd went absolutely _wild_ when Yuri had struck his final pose and took an elegant bow.

It would be no surprise if he really did win the gold.

“Damn…he’s…so much better than I remember,” Yuuri blurted out in utter shock.

“Ah, that’s little _Yura_ for you,” Victor chuckled, flashing a proud smile. “The kid’s so stubborn, he wouldn’t hesitate to break down a mountain if it meant being the best.”

“I can’t believe someone can be so talented,” Yuuri commented, still taken aback.

“Hey, you weren’t any worse, you know,” Victor smiled, lightly laughing at Yuuri’s disbelief. “I mean it. I really do.”

“If you…say so,” Yuuri sheepishly replied, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Up next was Chris. Truth be told, Victor couldn’t wait to see his friend’s performance. Every season, he’d manage to surprise the audience more and more. What he had in store today was a complete mystery.

Unlike Yuri’s child-like, ethereal beauty, Chris’ charm lurked on a completely different end of the spectrum.

He enchanted his spectators with his audacious and suggestive dance moves that could thrill just about anyone.

This routine was no different. A much more mature song began playing as Chris gracefully moved accordingly. Just like Yuri, he failed none of his jumps, and so far, his technical skills were just as good, if not more so. After all, he could count on many years of experience that he had during his career.

“H-holy shit,” Yuuri had blurted out, once again amazed by the talent of his former colleague. Even thinking that felt so weird to him. He couldn’t believe that he and Chris were on the same level.

Victor, however, was amused at Yuuri’s childish bewilderment. His usually small auburn eyes sparkled and shined as he blissfully stared at the ice, his mouth just a little agape. The silver-haired man couldn’t help but crack a little smile too.

“Whatcha looking at?” Yuuri suddenly asked, putting his friend on the spot.

“Gah! Uh-um, nothing,” Victor muttered, feeling heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“Anyway, Phichit is next, right?” Yuuri commented, a smug grin on his features. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom then. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Want me to come with?” Victor asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Victor,” Yuuri scoffed. “I ain’t a kid, y’know.”

Victor only shrugged in response and the florist walked away.

Thanks to the generous amount of signs placed all around the premises, he was quickly able to find the bathroom. It was in a secluded hallway just behind the large doors leading to the arena. His footsteps softly echoed throughout the hall as he creaked the door open.

The room was empty. Good.

Yuuri slowly made his way towards the water fountain and took large, greedy gulps, before gasping for air. He was so damn thirsty.

He assumed it must be because of how nervous he had been feeling for the past few hours. Everything was happening so quickly; he was barely able to keep up with it.

He let out a heavy sigh and waddled towards the mirrors, deciding to take a brief look at himself.

He really shouldn’t have, though.

As he washed his face with cold water, he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone. A mortifying feeling clung to him like a blight as he heard _that_ voice softly humming.

What melody was that? Yuuri couldn’t discern it…until the stranger humming turned into barely comprehensive mumbling.

 _“We were born to make history_ …” the voice let out. Yuuri stood frozen as the stall furthest to the wall suddenly shot open and heavy footsteps echoed in the room.

He prayed to anyone who was willing to listen that the stranger would stay at least six, if not ten feet away from him. He silently begged his legs to start moving. He quietly implored his brain to pick the ‘flight’ out of ‘fight, flight or freeze’. He softly beckoned that he wouldn’t have to face his everlasting nightmare just yet.

But nobody came.

“Yo, _Yuuri_ ,” the far too familiar voice called out, stretching out the ‘u’. “Don’t ya’ know how to greet an old friend?”

Yuuri reluctantly turned around. He wished that he was dead where he stood.

A tall figure loomed in front of him, asserting fear with every inch of his body, from the short spiky hair to the thick bridged eyebrows, to the black leather jacket and combat boots. This, this man, this ever-evolving nightmare of a human being, was Ezra.

“I-I’m sorry,” he muttered, still averting his gaze. “Have we met?”

Wrong answer.

Fast as lightning, Ezra grabbed the collar of Yuuri’s shirt and held him tightly.

“Don’t you fuck around with me, _Yuuri_ ,” he growled, flashing a menacing smile. “You think I’ll believe some fucked up lie like that? Who do you take me for?”

Please, let anyone come in here.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri exclaimed, trying to free himself from the man’s steel clutches. “I really don’t remember!”

Wrong again.

Without hesitation, Ezra sharply slammed Yuuri into a wall and held him hostage by his wrists.

“Oh really?” Ezra whispered into Yuuri’s ear, making his skin crawl. “Then, how ‘bout I remind you?” he snarled and forcefully pressed his lips onto Yuuri’s.

No. No, he was not standing for this.

“Jesus Christ, fuck off!” the ex-skater yelled, shoving his aggressor away. “The hell is wrong with you? Back off!”

“Damn, I was hoping we wouldn’t get to that,” Ezra admitted, letting out a maniacal laugh. “But since you just had to go and get violent, then I guess I’ll just have to pay you back with the same coin.”

“What are you-“ Yuuri barely muttered before a harsh pain pierced his stomach. He cried out and fell to his knees, gasping for air.

“You just fucking asked for it,” Ezra mumbled, before landing another blow.

* * *

Around ten minutes had passed since Yuuri’s departure and Victor was starting to get worried. Phichit’s skate was but a few minutes away and he knew better than anyone how much it meant to Yuuri.

Victor grabbed his bag and Yuuri’s backpack and set off after him.

He found the bathrooms hallway just as easily and sharply turned the corner. Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea, because he inadvertently bumped into another young man who seemed to be in quite a hurry. Victor muttered a quick apology and rushed towards the door.

His heart was pounding like crazy, he could feel his hands shaking, though he didn’t really know why.

He was probably just overreacting. Yuuri was probably just taking his time and would be rightfully pissed if he knew that Victor came to get him.

Well, he was already here, so he might as well check, just to be sure.

Victor gently pushed the door open and took a few unsure steps in.

“Yuuri?” he called out, trying to calm down. “You still here…?”

Quiet eerie laughter suddenly echoed in the room, broken only by intermittent muffled sobs. That voice. It was…

Victor went pale.

He ran behind the bathroom hallway, past the water fountains, not even knowing what to expect. He prayed that it would be just a big misunderstanding and that Yuuri was already patiently waiting for him at the arena. Would asking that be too much?

“H-hey, sorry, I got a bit worried,” Victor nervously chuckled as he turned the corner and lift his gaze onto the main room. “Yuuri...?”

He froze.

Yuuri’s battered body laid against the wall, devoid of any trace of his usual liveliness. Countless bruises covered his exposed forearms. A thin stream of blood trickled from his chin, slowly staining his white shirt. His head was hung low, his hair covering most of his face, resembling a raven’s nest more than anything. His glasses laid just a few feet away from him, somehow still in one piece.

“Yuuri! Yuuri, are you okay?” Victor exclaimed in despair, falling to his knees next to his injured friend. “Yuuri, talk to me!”

No answer. The silver-haired man watched in shock as the florist weakly lift its head, revealing a large, borderline delirious grin plastered on his red, tear-soaked face.

“What the fuck do you think?” he shot back spitefully; his lips still sprawled in an unnatural smile. “I feel _fantastic_ , can’t you see?”

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Victor asked with a shaky voice, clearly at loss for words. “I need to treat your wounds.”

“No, you don’t,” Yuuri hissed, slapping Victor’s helping hand away. “It’s none of your damn business!”

“That doesn’t matter!” Victor exclaimed, upset. “You still need medical attention!”

“Fuck off!” Yuuri yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks like crazy. “You don’t even give a shit about me! Why the hell are you pretending otherwise?”

“What?” Victor uttered, aghast. “What a-are you saying?”

“Quit acting, damn it!” Yuuri went on, seeing red. “You know I’m nothing but a dead weight to you! All I’ve ever done was hurt you! I’m just a useless piece of garbage who can’t even face people without shaking! You know that! So why do you keep me around if you don’t even care?”

“ _Shut up! Just, shut up!”_ Victor unexpectedly snapped; his piercing ice-cold eyes riddled with stray tears. “ _Blyat_ , what kind of nonsense are you spouting? You know damn well that I care about you!”

No answer.

He reached for Yuuri’s face and carefully moved his bangs away from his face, revealing a bloody gash stretching across his temple.

“I need to patch this up,” Victor stated, fixating his firm gaze on Yuuri. “I have a first-aid kit in my car. C’mon, get up.”

“I don’t want your help,” Yuuri finally replied, bridging his eyebrows. “So, you might as well leave.”

“Let me help you, you stubborn shit!” Victor exclaimed, placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “Do you want to bleed to death here?”

“Fuck, I might as well!” Yuuri retorted, once again slapping Victor’s hands away. “Better than living with the fact that _Ezra_ might come and fuck me up again any time!”

“What? Did… _he_ do that to you?” Victor asked, feeling his heartbeat quicken its pace. Was the man that he bumped into just now…Ezra?

“Ding, ding, ding!” Yuuri sarcastically let out. “We’ve got a winner, ladies, and gents!”

“Holy shit…” Victor muttered, biting his lip. He suddenly sprang up and grabbed a whole bunch of paper towels and dampened them under warm water, quickly crouching next to the florist when he was done.

“What are you- ow!” Yuuri hissed when he felt a burning itch pierce his skin. “What the hell? It hurts!”

“Stop complaining,” Victor replied, gently wiping off the blood from Yuuri’s face. “I know it hurts, but you can’t go through security looking like this.”

“I never agreed to this.”

“I don’t care!” he cut off, discarding the bloody tissues. “I really don’t care what you think of me right now. What matters is your safety.”

Yuuri scoffed and rolled his eyes in response.

“Can you stand?” Victor asked, forcing his friend to meet his gaze.

“And what if I can’t?” Yuuri shot back, a sly smile on his pale features.

“I’ll carry you.”

“Fuck no.”

With great difficulty and no less cursing, Victor had finally managed to help Yuuri out of the bathroom, and into the main hall. Luckily, the event was still going on, so they were able to pass through the countless hallways without many obstacles.

They rode the elevator down in complete and utter silence. Yuuri couldn’t even muster enough strength to hold a cohesive human conversation, and Victor was far too concerned with his friend’s well-being to chat.

Suddenly, he felt Yuuri’s weight softly falling onto him, as if his feet were no longer holding him.

“Hey, stay awake!” Victor warned, swiftly catching the younger male in his arms. “I can’t have you falling unconscious here!”

“Oh, gimme a damn break,” Yuuri muttered, yawning. “I wasn’t even trying to sleep.”

The elevator opened its doors on the parking floor, unraveling gray and dull colours. The car was parked fairly far from the entrance, too. What a lapse of judgment.

About halfway through, Victor noticed that Yuuri was limping more and more as they progressed. Without saying a word, he bent down and picked him up, bridal-style.

“W-what the hell?” Yuuri exclaimed, embarrassed. “Let me go! You have a bad leg!”

“ _Блять, заткнись нахуй_!” Victor snapped in Russian. “ _Хочешь закончить как я, да?”_

The black-haired boy wasn’t sure what it meant but it sure did sound angry. He let out a frustrated huff but decided against arguing. He didn’t have any strength for it, anyway. Sighing, he felt his consciousness drifting away as he buried his face in the crook of Victor’s neck.

When he awoke again, a new sceneries were already unfolding in front of him at incredibly high speeds.

“Wha…?” he muttered, grasping his chest in surprise. He found himself on the backseat of the car, a thick bandage enveloping his head.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake.” Victor gasped of relief, briefly glancing back from the driver’s seat. “I thought you were knocked out for good.”

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asked, looking out the window.

“Dropping you off at home, obviously,” Victor replied, scoffing. “You think we’ll be going anywhere else while you're looking like this?”

“Oh, screw you and your comments,” Yuuri mumbled, hissing at the sudden sharp pain in his temples. “You have any Advil in here?”

“No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to give them to you,” Victor shot back, taking an exit. “Just wait for a little, okay?”

“Fine,” Yuuri sighed. “The pain’s the only thing that keeps me awake, anyway.”

Victor didn’t answer, too focused on getting them both to their destination safely. They passed through several residential areas until finally reaching Yuuri’s house.

Luckily, the ex-skater himself was fairly conscious, so Victor didn’t need to carry him again, not that he’d be let to, anyway.

Yuuri fiddled with his keys for a little while before getting the door open and stumbling into his house.

“See? I’m all safe and sound now,” he let out, weakly leaning on the wall. “Thanks for the help, but I think I can manage from now on.”

“You sure?” Victor asked, not willing to leave his friend unattended.

“Yep! Hundred percent!” Yuuri happily assured, despite the overwhelming dizziness slowly submerging his mind and body. “I’m fine…” he muttered, his voice growing quiet and frail as he desperately tried to deny the obvious. “I’m…fine.”

His senses faded as he helplessly watched a distorted image of Victor rushing over to catch him before he’d gotten hurt even more.

Except it was too late.

Yuuri had already hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe...wasn't that one heck of a run? What did you think of this chapter? It's like Yuuri just can't get a second of rest, huh? 
> 
> I really hope that you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it and if you did please consider leaving some kudos and comments, cause I live for it~
> 
> "I want to gut Ezra like a fish." @JazzyCornflakes, 2020


	19. Duality Of Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired of putting mild language warning in front of every other chapter, so let's just keep in mind that it will be often present in the story, alright?
> 
> Also, I've been wanting to write this for a *very* long time :)

Yuuri woke up in a cold sweat, immediately wincing at the overwhelming light hitting him head-on.

What the hell…?

Gasping, he slowly tried to adjust to the unbearable brightness and risked opening his eyes again.

He found himself laying on the cold floor of what seemed like…a room. Although, he wasn’t sure that he could even qualify this desolate place as a room. It had no discernible boundaries, most likely hidden by this insufferable omnipresent source of light.

There was nothing that could serve as furniture, either, save maybe for the interminable white floor that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, hidden only by the semi-transparent white fog lingering in the air

Where was he? Everything looked so strange. How did he even end up in such a place?

He had to retrace his steps if he wanted to get out of here. Come on, _think_.

The last thing that he remembered is Victor getting him to his apartment and…after that, darkness.

He must’ve fallen unconscious again. He did get hurt pretty badly, after all.

Oh, right.

He palped his temples, expecting to find the thick bandage Victor had placed, but his fingertips felt only soft, if somewhat dry, skin that looked like it never bore any trace of injury.

On top of that, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of tiredness or nausea or even pain that he most definitely should have been feeling after having such a rough day.

His heart quickened its pace. What the hell was going on? Was this just another work of his sleep-deprived imagination? He’s hallucinated before, much worse than this, but when he had, there was almost always some auxiliary sedative substance involved. Then, was this a dream, or a nightmare, perhaps?

No. It felt too real to be a dream.

“Hello?” Yuuri nervously called out, taking a few shaky steps into the unknown. “I-Is anyone here?”

As soon as he had said those words, he noticed to his greatest dismay that the room all around him began slowly darkening, eventually settling on a dark gray.

What the…?

Yuuri frantically looked around, calling out once more into this hostile void, but received no answer. As his spirits fell further and further, he noticed the room’s atmosphere darkening as well.

“Oi! You there!” he suddenly heard an oddly familiar voice exclaim.

Ah, what a relief! There was someone else here with him!

He didn’t even notice the room around him turn into a cool shade of indigo as he swiftly twirled around. He saw no one…until a silhouette began slowly emerging from the mist, casting a distorted shadow on the floor.

Yuuri gasped in shock.

It was a young man who looked just about the same age and height as him. His refined, delicate features wore a discontented scowl as he confidently approached, his unruly dyed hair fluttering with every step.

Despite his baggy hoodie, Yuuri could see that this stranger was in very good shape. His stance, though hostile, conveyed some sort of elegance, very usual for dancers and ice skaters.

Then…could this man be another former acquaintance of his? If so, what was he doing in this peculiar place?

The room around them slowly switched to a light orange tone as the stranger stopped within just a few feet away from Yuuri, an unsettling smile on his chapped lips. He arrogantly gave the florist a once-over before letting out a derisive scoff.

“Damn, is _this_ what break-up does to people?” he laughed, running a bandaged hand through his already disheveled hair. More so, both of the young man’s forearms were completely covered with what seemed like medical bandages. What were they for? Aesthetic purposes or something much more serious?

“E-excuse me…?” Yuuri stuttered, shocked by the snarky attitude of this man. “Who a-are you?”

“Whatta’ silly question,” the stranger laughed. “I’m you.”

“What…? What are y-you saying?”

“Is it so hard to understand?” he sighed. “Would you prefer Japanese then?”

Without even waiting for an answer, the young man continued in perfect Japanese:

“ _Ore wa anata. Ore wa Katsuki Yῡridesu.”_

“N-no way!” Yuuri exclaimed in his native tongue. “You can’t be me! You just can’t!”

“Oh, really?” the stranger asked, a sly smirk on his lips. “And, pray tell, why is that?”

“You’re not wearing any glasses!” Yuuri pointed out. “I’m nearly blind without them!”

“Ever heard of contact lenses?”

“N-nevertheless!” he retorted. “I won’t accept that you’re me! Unless…unless this is just a very b-bad dream…”

“Call it what you will; A dream, a nightmare, a fucking benzodiazepine hallucination, I honestly couldn’t care less,” the young man interrupted, letting out an irritated sigh. “Just, for the love of God, cut out that stuttering, it really pisses me off.”

“B-but…but we look so different,” Yuuri argued, gesturing at each other. “Even if it’s a dream…”

“And whose fault do you think that is?” Other Yuuri scoffed, poking at the florist’s chubby body. “The hell have you done to yourself?”

“H-hey! I’d like to ask you the same question!” Yuuri replied, vexed. “What’s wrong with your hair?”

“My hair is perfect, mop-head!” Other Yuuri growled, twirling a lock of blue hair between his long fingers. “I can help you, damn it! Why don’t you stop wasting my time and ask me something that actually matters!”

“What could I ever ask you?” Yuuri shot back, suspicious. “If you’re me, then you must also have forgotten everything! For all I know, you could be lying.”

“Oh, you ignorant child,” Other Yuuri said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You haven’t forgotten everything, y’ know? The memories, the people you’ve met, who you’ve been, it’s still there. It’s all just hidden far, far away in that traumatized brain of yours.”

“Then…what are you?” Yuuri shakily asked.

“Haven’t I answered this question already? I’m you.” Other Yuuri replied. “Okay, fine, I am a representation of the person you were before…well, _that_. It means that only I possess the memories you’ve made before the _accident_ , if we can even call it that way. In other words, I’m you, but cooler. So, Cooler Yuuri, then,” he explained before his lips sprawled into a smug grin.

“I feel like my brain is over-heating…” Yuuri muttered as the room shifted back to a dark grey hue. “I don’t get a word you say.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Other Yuuri reprimanded, slapping his alter-ego on the back. “We don’t have much time! You have to know as much as possible, so ask away."

“A-alright,” Yuuri pondered. “Tell me, how did you get so much confidence?”

“I was born with it,” Other Yuuri replied without hesitation. “How did you lose it all, you son of a bitch?”

“Don’t talk about mom like that!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he apologized, before gesturing the florist to carry on.

“Right, umm, so,” Yuuri muttered, visibly unsettled. “Tell me, do I have a split personality disorder?”

“What the- No!” Other Yuuri shot back, angry. “Haven’t you been listening, you thick-headed grapefruit? I am not real. I am a mere more-or-less physical representation of your past memories. That’s it.”

“O-oh,” Yuuri nodded. “That…doesn’t clear things up but…okay,” he said before growing silent for a few moments. “Then, were you ripped?”

“That- that does _not_ matter,” Other Yuuri retorted, taken aback for a moment. “But, fuck, yeah, I was.”

“Prove it.”

“Gladly,” he smiled slyly and lightly lifted his hoodie to reveal a nearly perfect six-pack.

“Oh.” Yuuri simply uttered, glancing at his slightly overweight body.

“Years of my hard work, all gone to waste…” Other Yuuri complained, looking daggers at his alter-ego. “The fuck have you done to my body you pathetic excuse of a national symbol?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I suffered a life-changing head injury and been in a coma for two damn weeks!” Yuuri argued, growing frustrated as the room turned bright orange. “You know how bad I felt for the past two years!”

“You could’ve picked yourself up, you soggy piece of bread!” Other Yuuri yelled. “You’ve had so many opportunities to come back, and you fucking blew ‘em!”

“Hey! You know I have issues!”

“That’s not an excuse, you limp noodle!” he exclaimed. “I had issues too, you know? Except they were so much more complicated and worse that you’d want to _blow your brains out_ on the first day!”

“Oh, really?” Yuuri asked, arching an eyebrow. “Name one.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Other Yuuri growled, livid. “How thick-headed must you be to ask me something so utterly stupid as that? No wonder it took multiple hits to fuck up your brain.”

“It was still you when we got hurt!” Yuuri shot back.

“…fuck you, I have blue hair,” Other Yuuri muttered, looking away.

“Because that’s an argument?”

“Well, if you must know, I find it _quite_ compelling,” he explained, arrogantly arching an eyebrow. “As it shows that I don’t have the charisma of a _tulip_.”

“H-hey! Tulips are nice, I’ll have you know!” Yuuri argued, crossing his arms.

“Be thankful that I didn’t compare you to a dandelion.” Other Yuuri scoffed.

“B-but dandelions mean happiness!”

“And you sure have been _very_ happy recently,” he replied sarcastically with an unsettling grin. “Victor sure is nice, eh?”

“W-what?” Yuuri uttered, aghast. “What does Victor have to do with this?”

“Oh, honey, Victor has _everything_ to do with this,” Other Yuuri chuckled, patting the florist on the shoulder. “Even if your memory is knackered to hell and back, the very fact that I am allowed to exist means that your feelings have stayed the same. For the most part, at least.”

“The…same?” Yuuri mumbled, his heartbeat quickening its pace. The room suddenly shifted to a light pink hue. “W-wait a minute! You can’t mean that I…”

No answer.

“Why are you silent?” he asked, frustrated. “Talk to me!”

“Y’know what?” Other Yuuri pondered, scratching the back of his neck. “Perhaps…some things are best left forgotten.”

“Oh, no, no, you’re not getting away with this!” Yuuri exclaimed. “You said that you can help me, so why don’t you do it?”

“Because you’re so unbelievably oblivious!” Other Yuuri shot back, infuriated. “You can’t even look around and see how your actions are affecting everyone you love! You’re just a selfish wimp who whines from dusk to fucking dawn about how bad you have it without even trying to fix things!”

“You have no right to pry on me like that!” Yuuri retorted, the room shifting to a brown hue. “Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I wanted to get hurt? You say that I’m not doing anything to fix myself, but you’re not any better! All you’ve done is yell at me! That sure isn’t helpful!"

“God, I hate you so much,” Other Yuuri spat out after a few moments of silence.

“I am literally you.”

“Did I stutter?” he asked, his voice full of venom. “I can’t believe that I turned into such a bitch-ass.”

“I don’t understand any of this!” Yuuri cried out, frustrated. “Why can’t we just have a proper human conversation? Why do you have to shove everything in my face like it’s all my damn fault?”

Other Yuuri let out a maniacal laugh.

“Why? Why? You really want to know why? I’ll fucking tell you why,” he said with an unhinged smile. “Uh, Breaking News, it _is_ your damn fault! You’re the one who let everything go to shit! You’re the one who couldn’t get over yourself and instead insisted on wallowing in your own misery to the point where your own _sister_ won’t recognize you anymore!”

“I have amnesia, you dimwit!” Yuuri argued. “Even if I wanted to get back, I couldn’t have!”

“That’s bullshit! You didn’t even try!” Other Yuuri shot back. “Don’t you remember what you’ve drilled yourself into the head ever since childhood? You can do anything you want if you just put your mind to it, is that it? Isn’t that it? What a load of shit!”

“Shut up.”

“Fucking hell, if I knew that this is how I would’ve turned out, then I wish I’d never woken up from that coma!” he yelled, the room taking a crimson shade of red.

“Shut up! Do you think that I don’t regret every single damn day of my life? You think I enjoy being reminded all over and over again that I have lost everything that made me ‘me’?” Yuuri snapped, furious. “You’re the selfish one! You were so damn hell-bent on skating that you missed the freaking _plethora_ of red flags that Ezra was throwing at you! Don’t you dare pin everything on me when you’re the one who allowed us to get hurt in the first place!”

Other Yuuri didn’t answer. Instead, a few stray tears slowly rolled down his cheeks as he crashed to his knees, cupping his face in his hands.

“I…I know it’s my fucking fault, okay?” he uttered, his voice thick with tears. “I know I should’ve been more vigilant, I…”

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” Yuuri exclaimed, crouching next to his alter-ego. “Th-that was really insensitive of me.”

The atmosphere around them slowly turned back to light gray.

“No, you’re completely right,” Other Yuuri let out, choking back a sob. He quickly wiped his tears off with his sleeves and threw his hood on. “God, I’ve become such a fucking _wimp_.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Yuuri smiled, patting the other on the shoulder. “If anything, _you’re_ the strongest one of us. After all, you’re the one that got all those gold medals. You’re the one that the world loves, are you not?”

“I…guess…” Other Yuuri sighed, biting his lip. “But, nevertheless, I feel like I’ve failed you.”

Yuuri didn’t answer. No words were needed right now. He let out a small chuckle and pulled his broken alter-ego into a tight hug.

“Ew, what are you doing? I am disgusted,” Other Yuuri complained howbeit returning the hug. The room turned a pretty shade of green as the two Yuuri’s sat next to each other in comfortable silence, thinking over everything that had happened until now.

“Hey, umm…I have a question,” Yuuri quietly asked, pulling away. “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, but…what are your bandages for?”

“Ah, those?” Other Yuuri uttered, pitifully glancing at his forearms, his features turning melancholic. “They’re just an example of how weak I’ve become.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“I could just show you,” Other Yuuri sighed, reluctantly unbinding the bandage bellow his elbow, revealing damaged, blemished skin, covered in weird circular burns and linear scars.

This was…

“O-oh no,” Yuuri let out in shock, instinctively glancing at his own wrists. Eventually, he managed to discern the nearly faded out marks on his now healing skin. “Holy crap, what have you been through?”

“Hell,” Other Yuuri simply replied, looking off into the distance. “But it’s over now, so…let’s just talk about something else, please. Got any other questions?”

“Uhm…let’s see. What’s up with Yuri Plisetsky?” Yuuri asked in disbelief. “Why is he acting so friendly towards me?”

“Oh, shit, Yuri?” Other Yuuri shot back, arching his eyebrows for a moment before bridging them once more. “You better not fuck up what I had with him!”

“…oops.”

“Oops? The fuck do you mean, oops?” he exclaimed, aghast. “You do realize you were his only friend?”

“I…was?” Yuuri uttered in confusion. “Oh, yikes, that’s not good.”

“Nah, ya think?” Other Yuuri replied sarcastically before concern set onto his pale features. “Don’t you dare tell me that he’s all alone now!”

“N-no, he’s not!” Yuuri let out, remembering something. “He mentioned having a friend again recently. Uhm…Otabek, I _think_.”

“Otabek, huh…” Other Yuuri pondered, before letting out a sigh. “You’re in luck. He’s a good guy. I would’ve murdered you otherwise.”

“That’d be suicide.”

“Yeah, so? Hasn't stopped me before,” he said, a sly smile on his lips. He let out a light chuckle at his alter-ego’s disheveled expression. “Come on, anything else?”

“What was it like?” Yuuri asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What was it like to be you?”

“Ooh, my friend, it was great,” Other Yuuri laughed as his lips sprawled in a nostalgic grin. “That feeling when you’re standing in the middle of the podium with a gold medal in hand, when you can hear the crowd yelling your name over and over…it still sends chills down my spine, you know? I wish I could experience that feeling again…”

“S-speaking of…” Yuuri began, expectantly raising his eyes at the other. “Could you tell me how we got hurt?”

Other Yuuri let out a hearty laugh.

“And reveal the punchline? Absolutely not.” he cut off, smiling slyly. “If you really want to know that badly, why don’t you just ask dear old Ezra? I’m sure he must be _dying_ to see you again!”

“I’ll…pass, thanks,” Yuuri uttered, going pale. “I can’t even understand why you were with him. Like, I know that we’re probably a few brain cells short, but why the hell would you choose him?”

“It ain’t my fuckin’ fault, you know?” Other Yuuri replied, letting out an annoyed sigh. He brought his knees to his chest and propped his chin. “He was a good person at first, they’re all are. Everything was fine for about a year until…he changed. Something broke him, and even I don’t know what it was. I don’t think he ever told me, either.”

Yuuri nodded understandingly, gesturing for the other to continue.

“You know how they say that people can’t change overnight? Yeah, well, don’t ever believe that shit.” Other Yuuri continued melancholically, biting his lip. “In the span of a few weeks, he became more and more impatient, more irritated, more jealous, and so forth, until it escalated to the point of no return. I know you probably hate me for not leaving then and there, but I swear, I just… _couldn’t_. I…guess I was afraid of what he might do, and as I later realized, rightfully so.”

“O-oh, I see,” Yuuri uttered, absently looking at his hands. “I’m assuming that you won’t go into any more details, even if I ask, right?”

“Correct,” Other Yuuri shot back, standing up and lending a helping hand to his alter-ego. “What good would it do to dump all that information on you, when you haven’t even recovered? I know you probably want the easy way out, but I’m afraid I can’t let you have it…for now, at least.”

“For now?” Yuuri asked, arching an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying that we’ll meet again?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Other Yuuri chuckled. “I am always a part of you. I share your feelings and the memories you’ve made. I exist because you _want_ me to exist!”

“Wh-what?” Yuuri uttered. “Then…what is your nature? What are you?”

“Why the fuck are you making me repeat myself?” Other Yuuri sighed but carried on his explanations. “I am a manifestation of your memories, experiences, and emotions. As long as there is something that binds your past and present, like a person or a strong feeling, be it hatred or love, I will be with you. Why do you think you’ve been having all those mood swings recently?”

“Because I’m mentally exhausted and don’t look after myself enough?”

“Well, yes, but actually no,” he replied, rubbing his temples. “Whenever you get reminded of your past, your emotions are strengthened in one way or another, which allows me to take over you to a certain extent. And I just so happen to have a shitty personality, so that’s why you get so irritated so easily.”

“Oh…okay,” Yuuri awkwardly nodded. “But will I be able to talk to you like this again?”

“I don’t think you want to, seeing as to how I’m able to appear so clearly because of your overflowing emotions and the fact that you were knocked the fuck out by _Ezra_ ,” Other Yuuri replied, smiling at his alter-ego’s disappointment. “But there _is_ another way to have me around…”

“What is it?”

“Lose the belly, then we’ll talk,” he cut off, letting out a hearty laugh. “Y’know what? I suddenly don’t feel like having you here anymore. And besides, Victor is waiting for your sorry ass, so I suggest you hurry back to him.”

“Victor? Why did you mention him all of a sudden?” Yuuri asked, confused.

“Yikes, didn’t know your memory is _that_ bad,” Other Yuuri commented as the room slowly began fading away. “Alright, fuck off now, I’m tired.”

“W-wait!” Yuuri exclaimed, but everything already went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! I've been wanting to write this very particular chapter ever since I've started writing this story! What do you think about this other version of Yuuri? I'd love to hear all about it!
> 
> I hope that you've enjoyed the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Don't hesitate to drop kudos and comments if you did!
> 
> If you have any questions about this weird duality, ask ahead! (I won't give away any spoilers though)


	20. Winds Of Change

Victor let out a large sigh as he fumbled with his apartment keys, cursing under his breath when he had picked the wrong one for the third time.

He was tired. Incredibly tired.

The scene at Skate Canada kept replaying in his head over and over again, still sending chills down his spine.

_Yuuri, bruised and bloodied, lying motionless on the floor. The glint of anger in his insane eyes, his raspy voice spitting harsh words._

It felt like a nightmare come true.

He hoped to God that Yuuri was alright. After Yuuri had almost given him a heart attack by collapsing on the cold tiled floor, Victor carefully picked him up and laid him on one of his couches, not daring to go into the bedroom, and placed his glasses on the coffee table next to him, leaving a short note.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he left after making sure that the younger male was safe and sound, and that his pulse was strong and regular.

On his way home, he tried to call Phichit but was obviously met with an answerphone, asking him to leave a message, which he did. 

And just like that, several hours flew by. It was now a little past seven, so about two hours too late.

He was in for one hell of a lecture.

“Oh, look who _finally_ decided to come back home!” he heard Katherine exclaim as he barely creaked the door open. “And to what do I owe such courtesy on your behalf?”

“Something came up,” Victor simply replied, taking off his jacket with a sigh. “Can we talk later? I’m tired.”

“Don’t avoid the question!” Katherine interrupted, bridging her eyebrows. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Uhm, Skate Canada?” Victor suggested, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I know that, damn it!” she cried out. “The hell made you so late?”

Victor risked a glance at his fiancée. Her lips were scrunched in a displeased pout and her eyes twinkled with the same glint of anger as Yuuri’s were just a few hours ago.

“Okay, y’know what?” Victor shot back, somewhat frustrated. “I don’t have the energy to listen to another pissed off person today, so how about you ask me that question in the morning?”

“Oh, is that so?” Katherine asked sarcastically, crossing her arms. “And who’s the other lucky bastard? Yourself, no doubt?”

“Oh, come on,” Victor muttered, letting out a tired sigh. “I believe I have already said that I had something to attend to, so why the hell do you keep pushing?”

“Because you won’t tell me what it is!” she cried out. “And if you’re hiding something, it’s not bound to be good, right?”

“You’re overreacting,” Victor said, making his way past her and dropping his bag off in his office. “Don’t be so damn paranoid, it’s nothing bad, alright?”

“Excuse me?” Katherine exclaimed, vexed. “ _I’m_ paranoid?”

“Yes! Yes, you are!” Victor let out, exasperated. “I’m so sick of you asking me where I go twenty-four-seven! I am allowed a personal life too, you know?”

“And I am allowed to want my _fiancé_ to spend time with me!” Katherine shot back. “You…you…all you do is wander god knows where, doing god knows what! You don’t even call me!”

“I get busy, alright?” Victor explained. “It’s not my fault if I have matters to attend to!”

“And what, pray to tell, was so important for you today that took _two damn_ hours?” Katherine asked, arching an eyebrow. “Is it something with that Yuuri again? Is it?”

“Oh, my God,” Victor sighed, shaking his head. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, so that _was_ it then!” she exclaimed, letting out a scoff. “What a surprise! Truly, I could never have seen it coming!”

“What are you so bitter for?” he asked, frustrated. “I really don’t get you.”

Katherine didn’t answer. Victor silently watched as the woman’s emerald eyes slowly began filling with tears. Her lips tightened in a small pout and her figure shook slightly as she choke back sobs.

Oh fuck.

“H-hey, it’s okay,” Victor uttered awkwardly as he took an uneasy step towards his fiancée. “Please, don’t cry, it’s alright.”

“Shut up!” Katherine suddenly yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stop acting like you still care!”

“What are you saying?” Victor exclaimed, shocked. “You know that I care about you!”

“No, you don’t!” Katherine shot back, wiping her eyes. “At least stop lying to yourself, damn it!”

Victor grew silent. He desperately wanted to refute her claims, because, yes, he did care about her. She was very dear to him and he had grown quite attached to Katherine over the last three years. So much that he thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

All that he had to do was tell her how much she meant to him and everything would be okay.

It should be easy, right?

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Katherine’s lips sprawled into a shadow of a pitiful smile as she softly shook her head in dismay.

“This doesn’t work anymore, does it?” she muttered, her features turning bittersweet. Her voice had no more spite in it, instead riddled with sorrow. “I’m sure you’ve realized it by now, even with the way you’re so thick-headed.”

Again, no answer.

“That’s what you think too, isn’t it?” Katherine calmly asked. “We’re only wasting each other’s time, aren’t we?”

“Katya, I…” Victor tried, feeling tears prickling his eyes.

She put up a hand to silence him.

“I don’t want to be wasting your time, _Vitya_ ,” she uttered, letting out a sigh. “Because I think you can be happier without me in your way.”

“Please, Katya, listen to me,” Victor began, trying to find the correct words. “We can still fix this.”

“And what for?” she asked, chuckling sadly. “What good would it do, lying to ourselves like that? You know it just as well as I do, Victor.”

He didn’t believe what he was hearing. What the hell was going on?

“I’ll go to a friend for tonight, so don’t worry about me,” Katherine muttered, turning away.

“A-are you sure?” Victor uttered, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. “I don’t understand…any of this.”

Katherine only let out a sad sigh and gently placed her hand on Victor’s shoulder.

“It’s for the best. You know it.”

She silently pulled away and retreated to their bedroom to pack herself a light bag filled with essentials, enough to last for a few days.

“I…I’ll come back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff,” she let out as she leashed Pushok, crouching next to Makkachin as well to bid him goodbye. “I’ll text you beforehand, though.”

An uneasy silence filled the room as she glanced at the man who used to play such a big part in her life for the last time. Her lips sprawled in a melancholic smile.

“Goodbye, Victor,” she muttered, her lips sprawling in a melancholic smile. “I wish you only all the best.”

Victor didn’t answer, tears streaming down his cheeks. He simply gave her a weak nod and the woman finally left, leaving a heavy silence after herself.

And so, Victor once again found himself alone in a cold bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Here's a shorter chapter to take a break from the chonkers lol. So, the totally not expected plot twist finally happened! Vic is sad and I am sad, but let's hope that it'll be worth it!
> 
> If you enjoyed, please consider to sprinke some kudos and comments!
> 
> (also the notification system s u c k s)


	21. True Friendship Is Never Serene

Phichit let out a shaky sigh as he picked up his phone for the umptieth time, bridging his eyebrows in dismay when he had noticed that there were no new messages from Yuuri, just like the last time he’d checked, which was about two minutes ago.

He was worried, incredibly so. A week has passed since Skate Canada and his friend has gone completely MIA, never answering calls nor messages. No matter the time Phichit called, he was always met with the soulless automated answerphone, prompting him to leave a message. After hearing the ever so redundant “You’ve reached Katsuki Yuuri, please leave a message,” for what seemed like countless times, Phichit simply gave up on trying to reach out.

Truth is, he only knew too well that Yuuri happened to have ‘episodes’ where he’d just vanish off the grid for days or even weeks at a time, leaving everyone around him questioning his well-being. What’s worse is that he would always come back lively and joyful, as if nothing ever went wrong. It was quite unsettling, to say the least.

Either way, this time, Phichit didn’t have the will nor the patience to wait for his friend to show up again. Especially with that mortifying voicemail that Victor had left him. Even after all these days, he could still hear the man’s terrified voice, stuttering upon almost every word.

Frankly, Phichit didn’t even understand what actually happened to Yuuri, as nearly half of the message was in a language he couldn’t understand. Was it even a language, or just some gibberish made up on the fly?

Ah, the curse of being multilingual.

Be that as it may, Phichit didn’t waste any time calling Victor back, rushing to his phone as soon as the event was over, but it seemed that the silver-haired man had also decided to go missing, as his countless calls had been left unanswered.

What a mess this whole situation was.

With that mindset, Phichit was now making his way towards Yuuri’s store, hoping to clear up any misunderstandings and worries that he had. He should’ve been on the plane to Thailand by now, and instead he was on the back seat of an express bus, watching the rain hit the large window with a loud pitter-patter.

Thankfully, he managed to convince his coach Celestino to move his home rink to Vancouver, where he’d be able to keep a close eye on Yuuri, because even he, himself hadn’t the foggiest idea what was happening in his friend’s mind.

Upon hearing the robotic female voice announcing his stop, Phichit quickly shot up from his seat and wobbled towards the front of the bus, pressing the ‘stop’ button in the process.

As the bus came to a halt, he leaped off the vehicle and set off, breaking into a run, not even taking the time to open his umbrella, despite the terrible weather. He desperately wanted to assure himself that Yuuri was okay and that he was simply too busy to respond.

When finally reached the flower shop, he was just about to be carried away by the ruthless, howling wind.

It was open today. Good.

Phichit quickly opened the door and the ever so familiar ringing of the doorbell resonated all around him. He shut the door behind him and let out a large sigh of relief.

“Yikes! The weather really is terrible outside!” a… _female_ voice exclaimed as Phichit slowly came back to his senses. “You good?”

His head shot up in surprise. There was a young woman standing behind the counter, just about his own age.

“O-oh, yes, thank you,” he uttered, trying to process the situation.

Why was there a girl here? Could he have had the wrong address?

No, there was no way. After a few months spent in Vancouver, he ought to know how to get to his best friend’s store.

The girl must’ve noticed his disheveled expression because she let out a light laugh before speaking up.

“You’re looking for Yuuri, aren’t you?” she asked, tying her long, brightly coloured hair up in a high ponytail.

“Yeah…I’m his friend,” Phichit nodded. “I’m sorry, it’s just that there have never been any other employees in this store before.”

“No need to apologize, it’s all chill,” the young woman chuckled. “Yuuri’s on sick leave, so I’m here to replace him until he gets all better.”

“What do you mean, sick leave?” Phichit asked, frowning in confusion.

“I dunno much about it,” she admitted, shrugging. “All I know is that he asked me to look after the store while he ain’t here.”

“I…see,” Phichit muttered. “And, what’s your name?”

“Oh? I’m Sky!” the girl answered, before correcting herself. “Well, Skyler, but, eh, who needs full names, am I right?”

“What a nice name,” Phichit smiled. “I’m Phichit. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Sky chuckled. “So, can I help you with anything?”

“Uh…do ya know where Yuuri might be today?” Phichit asked, arching an eyebrow. “I can’t get a hold of him for some reason.”

“Really? I’ve literally just gotten off the phone with him,” Sky replied, her lips scrunching up in a small pout. “He’s probably at home, being sick and all.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Phichit nodded, waving goodbye. “Well, then, I’ll be off. I gotta check up on Yuuri.”

“Alright!” Sky let out as he opened the door. “Just don’t forget your umbrella!”

What an unexpected turn of events this was. Phichit was beside himself from shock. Yuuri, overzealous as he was, had almost never called in people to replace him, because he was very rarely gone for more than two or three days, save maybe from the occasional trip to Hasetsu, to see his family.

The fact that there was someone to replace him must really speak volumes about his well-being. Phichit wondered if his suffering was physical, mental, or perhaps an unholy combination of both. He didn’t even know what happened.

After the event ended that day, he was expectantly waiting for Yuuri and Victor to greet him back in the ‘personnel only’ area like they had originally planned, but he got a terrifying voicemail instead.

Phichit wasn’t mad. Not at Yuuri, anyway. Frankly, he didn’t care one bit that his friend hadn’t watched him skate. All that mattered to him right now is his safety. He only hoped that Yuuri had enough common sense left to go see a doctor if he really was feeling that unwell.

Who was he kidding? He was pissed as hell.

But Yuuri’s well-being is more important for now. He can yell at him later.

And just like that, Phichit had found himself in front of Yuuri’s apartment complex. With shaky hands, he had pressed the ‘apt 25’ button and impatiently bounced on his tiptoes until he had finally heard the buzzing of the door.

Good. This meant that Yuuri was home.

Phichit swiftly flung the door open and climbed the stairs two-by-two all the way to the second floor. He stopped in front of Yuuri’s apartment and knocked, letting out a worried sigh.

After a few seconds of silence, the door creaked open and Yuuri’s head sheepishly peeked out.

“Yea?” he muttered with a hoarse voice before letting out a disappointed “Oh…it’s you.”

Phichit let out a scoff in disbelief as his friend weakly pushed the door agape, revealing himself entirely.

To say that Yuuri was a mess would be the understatement of the _millennia_. His messy, tangled hair fell unevenly all over his pale, sunken face. Weirdly, his glasses were gone too. Did he find his contacts somewhere or did he just give up on seeing?

To his great dismay, Phichit noticed a hint of a bandage lurking somewhere under Yuuri’s clump of hair. Moreover, as he gave his friend a worried once-over, he also realized that there were more bandages wrapped around his hands and forearms. And some of them were still bloodied!

Just what the hell happened to Yuuri?

“What the fuck?” Phichit let out, gobsmacked by his friend’s state.

“Chill, mate,” Yuuri shrugged, gesturing for him to come in. “I was just waiting for food. I gotta eat too, y’know?”

“Yuuri! What happened to you?” Phichit exclaimed, engulfing his chiffon doll of a friend into a tight hug.

“Ah, you’re hurting me…” Yuuri hissed, weakly returning the hug. “Ugh, and your jacket’s all wet too.”

“Oh, God, sorry!” Phichit apologized, pulling away and taking off his wet coat. “I was just really worried about you!”

“Why?” Yuuri innocently asked, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not like I died or anything.”

“Well, I didn’t know that!” Phichit shot back. “You went MIA for a whole week! I didn’t have any way of knowing whether you were still alive or not!”

“You could’ve asked Victor, you know?” Yuuri suggested, plopping onto his couch. “From what I remember, he helped me out a whole bunch.”

“I tried,” Phichit replied, sitting next to his friend. “But he went missing too. Like, he downright _disappeared_.”

Yuuri’s head shot up. “Whaddya mean?”

“Dunno,” Phichit shrugged. “I mean, he left me a voicemail, but I didn’t understand anything cause half of it was Russian. I tried to call back, but he fell off the grid by that time."

“Yikes, that explains why he didn’t answer my calls,” Yuuri cringed, before remembering something. “Oh, by the way, what place did you get?”

“Silver,” Phichit proudly stated. “Yuri got gold.”

“Oh, damn, I’m so proud of both of y’all!” Yuuri weakly smiled, putting his bandaged hand up for a high-five, which Phichit gladly returned with maybe a little too much strength.

“So, have you been to the doctor yet?” Phichit asked with concern. “Like, you probably need medical attention, no? You know, just to make sure there’s nothing wrong with that brain ‘o yours. Also, where are your glasses?”

“On my nightstand. Hurts my eyes to see,” Yuuri shrugged “Also, no I haven’t.” He opened his mouth to explain, but got interrupted by the sudden buzzing of the interphone.

“This better be my take-out or I’m throwing hands,” he let out meaningfully and waddled to the door, his oversized clothing flopping around with his steps.

Thankfully, no hands were thrown and Yuuri soon reappeared in the living room, carrying two surprisingly large bags with what Phichit could only assume was an unholy combination of McDonald's and Thai Express.

“I have several questions,” he uttered as his friend nonchalantly tossed the bags on the coffee table.

“How many of them are about food?” Yuuri laughed, tearing a bag open and grabbing a set of chopsticks.

“Most of them.”

“Have some nuggets then,” Yuuri simply replied, tossing his friend a small warm package.

“You didn’t actually answer my question,” Phichit eventually remarked after their conversation had shifted to another more neutral theme.

“The one I already answered or the one I chose to ignore?” Yuuri asked back, his dry lips sprawling in a sly smile.

“Oh, come on, Yuuri,” Phichit whined. “You gotta care about yourself more than that.”

“What? I said it, I don’t want to go to the hospital!” Yuuri retorted. “I am fine, and besides, I hate hospitals with a burning passion.”

“Guess what? I don’t care,” Phichit shot back, shoving a nugget in his mouth. “You gotta get an appointment today and I’m gonna go with you.”

“That…won’t be necessary, really,” Yuuri nervously muttered. He tried to force a convincing smile. “I feel okay, alright?”

“Mhm, sure,” Phichit let out sarcastically. “Why don’t you tell that to dearest Sky, then? I’m sure she’ll be _thrilled_.”

Yuuri’s face contorted into an expression Phichit couldn’t discern for the life of him. He saw it as a small win over his friend’s stubbornness.

Jeez, he could be such a child when he was in a bad mood, so bad that it often seemed impossible that Yuuri was three years Phichit’s senior.

“Ugh, fine,” Yuuri gave in, letting out a frustrated sigh. “But I get to be bitter about it, okay?”

“Since when do you feel the need to ask me that question?” Phichit chuckled as he watched his friend tap some buttons on his phone, getting progressively more and nervous.

Yuuri let out a little huff and pressed his phone to his ear.

* * *

“Sigh…”

One could say that Dr. Riley Wei has had quite a long day at work. Indeed, it was already nearing six o’clock, and ten or so patients had yet walked into their office, bearing all sorts of complaints, ranging anywhere from abstract pain in random body parts to seasonal flu to painkillers addicts looking for a quick fix.

Either way, they were exhausted, and simply wanted to return home to tend to their two rabbits and fall asleep early, but against all odds, a last-minute appointment has been scheduled on their list.

Frankly, had it been any other patient, they would’ve flat-out refused to have them today, but when Dr. Wei had glanced on the patient’s name, they decided to make a special exception. After all, their patient was _just as_ special.

“ _Hey_ , Dr. Wei, how’s it going?” they heard a far too familiar voice call out as the exam room door opened, revealing two young men, one of which they didn’t recognize.

_Well, at least he’s still alive._

“Yuuri!” the doctor smiled, standing up. “Didn’t expect to see you today! Thought you’d have come _last week_ as I told you to!”

“Yeah, about that,” Yuuri chuckled, throwing finger guns. “I was super-duper busy, y’know? The store and all that.”

“You were supposed to go last week?” the other man interjected, taken aback. “And you weren’t even busy! You were home all week!”

“Shush, Phichit!” Yuuri hissed. “Don’t blow my cover.”

“Oh, trust me, he didn’t need to. I saw through it already,” Dr. Wei sighed, shaking their head. They gestured both of their visitors to take a seat and cleared their throat. “So, to what unexpected turn of events do I owe your visit? Also, where are your glasses? I thought your vision was like minus two and a half.”

“I forgot ‘em at home,” Yuuri shrugged nonchalantly, struggling to climb onto the patient’s bed. “There’s nothing really wrong with me. It’s just that my _friend_ here wanted me to come just to be sure.”

“Nothing wrong with you, my ass,” Phichit interjected, bridging his eyebrows. “Why don’t you just tell us all what happened to you?”

“Stop acting like you’re my mom,” Yuuri grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Also, should you even be here? Isn’t this all confidential?”

Doctor Wei let out a large sigh and gave Phichit a once-over.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one that brought him here, so by proxy, you automatically consent,” they replied, adjusting their glasses. “And honestly, I agree with him, so please, cut to the chase."

“Alright, that’s a funny story, actually,” Yuuri began, nervously chuckling. “You remember that toxic partner that I had for a while?”

“Yeah, you spent a whole month in the ICU, how could I not?”

“Well, so he kind of…beat me up in a public bathroom at a large-scale skating event,” he blurted out.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Oof,” Dr. Wei eventually let out.

“Yuuri! Why wasn’t I aware of this?” Phichit exclaimed, aghast. “Why haven’t you told me that Ezra-“

He got swiftly interrupted by Yuuri.

“Because I didn’t want to bother you with unnecessary stuff! And besides, I am fine!” he assured, before a sharp pain pierced his skull, making him let out a small yelp.

“Yeah, you sure are, and I’m at home, feeding my rabbits,” Dr. Wei retorted, standing up to pull on gloves. “Drop the act, Yuuri. What’s wrong?”

“Headaches, nausea, insomnia, loss of appetite, tiredness,” Yuuri simply replied in a soulless voice as the doctor carefully undid his bandages and examined whatever horrors they concealed. “Also, general pain in my body, probably a dozen bruises, some lacerations, and that thing on my forehead that can’t seem to heal.”

Phichit’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“So, Uhm, I would like to say what I really think about this situation but,” Dr. Wei began. “I’m afraid I’m legally not allowed to.”

“Let it all out, doc,” Yuuri shrugged nonchalantly. “This is a private space. I won’t mind.”

“You are so incredibly irresponsible that it honestly baffles me you’ve managed to not die for so long!” the doctor reprimanded, scribbling something on their document. “I can’t believe you’re still alive after the time you came in at three in the morning because you accidentally chugged insecticide! Granted, it ended up being non-toxic, but _still_!”

“…Oh.”

“You…what?” Phichit uttered, gobsmacked at this whole situation. “Why would you…?”

“I confused the orange juice and the chemical, alright?” Yuuri explained. “I didn’t have my glasses on, either.”

“Anyway, Yuuri, you need a CAT scan, like now,” Dr. Wei announced, writing a prescription. “And I’m gonna call a nurse to patch you up.”

“Thanks, doc, but I’m fin-,” Yuuri shot up, only to stumble and plop back onto the bed, lightheaded.

“Yeah, buddy, you sure are. Nurse!” the doctor replied, opening the door. Before they left, they turned to Phichit. “For the love of God, do _not_ let him out of your sight!”

Phichit sheepishly nodded and the door shut, leaving a heavy silence in the room.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri muttered, letting out a sigh after the nurse had left. “I really am an irresponsible shit, huh?”

“Yeah, you are,” Phichit shot back, vexed. “Can’t believe you didn’t fuckin’ tell me about any of this. I’m disappointed, really.”

He was upset, and rightfully so. After all, Yuuri was supposed to be his best friend, but clearly, he hadn’t trusted him enough to confide something as serious as that. What a show this whole situation was.

Yuuri didn’t reply, biting his lip instead.

Phichit watched his friend meekly retrieve his cell-phone and bridging his eyebrows in confusion as he let out a hushed ‘what the fuck’.

“What is it?”

“Well, how shall I put this?” Yuuri uttered, weakly leaping from his bed and taking a seat next to Phichit. “I have so many notifications, my phone’s not even able to load them all. Oh, God, it says there’s more than ninety-nine.”

“Haven’t you been checking your accounts?” Phichit asked, not particularly surprised. “You ought to realize by now that you’re a public figure.”

“About that,” Yuuri began, scratching the back of his head. “I sort of…shut it off for the past week.”

“W-why would you do that?” Phichit exclaimed, taken aback. “You should at least consider the possibility that your close friends or even _family_ would like to check on you!”

“O-oh, wait a minute,” Yuuri muttered, puzzled. “Turns out I _did_ talk to Victor, but I was just tripping.”

Phichit let out an exasperated sigh. He opened his mouth to speak but got interrupted by the door opening. It was Dr. Wei.

“Alright, Yuuri, here’s the deal,” they announced in a soulless voice, handing their patient a few colourful papers. “You’re gonna’ go get yourself those meds _today_ and you’re gonna’ take them _every day_ , understand?”

“Ya, sure,” Yuuri shrugged, standing up. “Anything else?”

“You’re scheduled for a CAT scan in half an hour,” the doctor replied, turning to Phichit. “It’s in the neurology department, on the fourth floor, okay?”

“It’s fine, I know the way,” Yuuri interjected, forcing a convincing smile. “Been here before.”

“I wouldn’t trust you with a _carrot_ , what makes you think I’d trust you to look after yourself?” Dr. Wei cut off, letting out a sigh. “When you get there, give them the blue paper, alright? I’ll call you with the results in like two or three days.”

Yuuri nodded, putting up a thumbs-up.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight.”

“Can you even afford a CAT scan now?” Phichit asked as they rode the elevator to the fourth floor. “And what about the meds? Can you pay them?”

“What do you mean, ‘can I pay them?’” Yuuri muttered, confused. “It’s free.”

“What?” Phichit shot up, aghast. “How come?”

“The wonders of free healthcare, my friend,” Yuuri replied, letting out a scoff.

“Damn! I’m so glad I left Thailand and made Vancouver my home rink!”

“You what?” he exclaimed, taken aback. “Why was I not aware of this?”

“I don’t know why _you’re_ not aware of it,” Phichit shrugged as the elevator came to a halt. “But my other six hundred Instagram close friends sure are.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, Yuuri’s phone rang, the default ringtone echoing throughout the barren halls. He gasped and quickly retrieved the device with his bandaged hands, bridging his eyebrows at the caller ID.

 ** _INCOMING CALL: YURI PLISETSKY_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Didn't I tell you that Phichit would yet have his time to shine? Well, here it is! Though it was a little complicated to write, it was still super fun! 
> 
> Also, if you can remember where 'Sky' comes from, you're the MVP!
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to sprinkle some kudos and comment on what you thought! It'd be greatly appreciated~


	22. The Love That Lays Forgotten

Never-ending pitter-patter echoed throughout Yuuri’s bedroom, interrupted only by the eventual roaring of the thunder. The moon was nowhere to be seen, hidden away by the thick clouds stretching over the firmament. The only source of light seeping through the slightly open window were the meek rays of street lights, dimmed by the overall darkness of the night

Aside from Mother Nature’s wrath, no sound could be heard in the apartment, save maybe for the ticking of the alarm clock and Yuuri’s quiet snoring. Indeed, the sleeping pills had done their job and he was finally able to get some well-deserved rest. The past few days have taken quite a toll on this poor man, and he was now desperately trying to get himself back together.

Suddenly, right as the clock struck two thirty-five, a loud knock pierced the deadly silence of the night.

Yuuri shot up in cold sweat, gasping and clutching his chest.

What the hell was that sound? Was it even real or did he just make it up?

He took deep slow breaths to calm himself and carefully slid out his blankets, his bare feet touching the cold wooden floor.

Another knock. Yuuri froze.

Chills pierced his skin as he glanced at the clock on his bedpost and realized just how late into the night it really was.

If he was feeling groggy or angry about his loss of sleep, those emotions quickly melted away, replaced by outright _fear_.

Who would even consider showing up at his house at such a hellish time? Yuuri ran a quick mental checklist but found no one that would fit in that category.

Wait just a minute. Could it be…

No. He didn’t even know where Yuuri lived. For now, anyway.

For a brief moment, Yuuri seriously considered calling the police but decided against it. At the very least, he could check who it was through the peeping hole first. Moreover, if it _was_ a robber, they probably wouldn’t even bother knocking.

Shivering from the sudden gust of cold air, he soundlessly made his way towards the door and stood on his tiptoes to reach the little hole.

He gasped in shock and swiftly opened the door. As he did, he felt himself engulfed into the tightest hug his weary bones had the misfortune of receiving.

When he had pulled away, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Here, right in front of him, disheveled and jet-lagged, stood _Mari_.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt, you little shit?” she exclaimed in her native tongue as she shook her brother by the shoulders. “I’ve been worried _sick_!”

“I…didn’t want to bother you,” he replied as his voice grew fainter and fainter. He meekly gestured for his sister to come in and shut the door behind her. “You were in Japan. I didn’t think you’d care.”

Mari let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her suitcase and wet umbrella.

“What kind of twisted logic is that?” she asked, shaking her head. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s even anything left in that head of yours. Moreover, where are your glasses? Aren’t ya fuckin’ blind?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Yuuri muttered, yawning. “I’m constantly on pain meds and God knows what else, so I wouldn’t try to understand my logic right now.”

“That bad, huh?” she hummed, taking a look around the place, bridging her eyebrows in confusion at the overall darkness. “Why is it so damn dark in here? I can’t see shit.”

Yuuri let out a shocked scoff. “Mari, it’s two in the morning.”

“Oh, really?” she shot up, glancing at her phone, which had already adjusted to the new time zone. “Damn, you live far! Took me twelve fuckin’ hours to get here!”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Yuuri replied, letting out another yawn. “Sorry for this lukewarm welcome, but I’m just _really_ sleepy. I still haven’t entirely dismissed the possibility that I might be hallucinating.”

“Jeez, what’s going on with you?” Mari asked, cringing at her brother’s pitiful state. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Yuuri retorted, waddling into his kitchen and switching the kettle on. “Come on in, make yourself at home or whatever. You don’t need my permission, anyway.”

“God, I’m exhausted,” she sighed, plopping herself onto one of the couches. “Do you have any food? I’m starving.”

“Uh, I _think_ I have some chicken nuggets left somewhere,” Yuuri muttered, opening the fridge and retrieving a small brown bag. “There, catch,” he called out, tossing it across the room to his sister, who swiftly caught it.

“Mom would kill you for this, you know?” she snickered, shoving a cold nugget in her mouth.

“There are _many_ things that mom would kill me for,” Yuuri replied, letting out an unhinged laugh. “I’m basically a dead man walking at this point.”

“At last! You’ve become self-aware,” Mari added-on, laughing, before turning serious. “But, how are you? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Do you want to know the truth or the half-assed version?” Yuuri asked, pouring himself a large mug of tea. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, obviously,” she replied, letting out a yawn. “Tell me everything you’re willing to divulge.”

“Well, I’ve been feeling like hot garbage for about two weeks now,” Yuuri sighed, taking out another mug, unbothered by the darkness. “My everything hurts, but at least the pain meds are keeping my desire to murder at bay.”

“Yeah, it shows,” Mari commented, taking the hot mug from her brother’s bandaged hands. “Oh…I see you’ve got those bandages again,” she muttered melancholically.

“It probably ain’t what you think,” Yuuri replied, sitting down on the other couch. “Also, I’ve been meaning to ask; How the hell did you even figure out that I was hurt?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mari shot up, aghast. “You’re all over the goddamn news!”

“What?” Yuuri exclaimed, nearly choking on his tea. “What do you mean?”

“Have you been living in a vacuum all this time?” she asked, sighing at her brother’s lost expression. “Yuri told me that you’ve gotten hurt, so I took the first flight I could book.”

“You still keep in touch with Yuri?” Yuuri asked, confused. “Also, I still don’t understand why I’m on the news. Victor saw it first hand, then he must’ve told Phichit, who probably told Yuri, who told you. Shouldn’t that be the end of it?”

“Oh, you poor child,” Mari muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Don’t you know how Phichit is? He posts about everything, and I mean _everything_. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole world knew about it by now.”

Yuuri froze.

“I’m gonna marinate him and feed him to his offsprings,” he uttered with a shaken expression. “What the fuck did he post?”

“Jeez, brother, watch your damn language,” Mari let out, shocked. “Just check your phone! I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough.”

“Can I use yours instead?” he asked, pitifully glancing at his sister. “My phone is…off.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” Mari sighed, giving her phone away. “But you better use your own Wi-fi. I got a limited data plan, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Yuuri shrugged, quickly going about his business.

Fast as lighting, he found his friend’s Instagram profile and clicked on his most recent ‘Close Friends’ story, unsure what to expect. Unbeknownst to him, Mari was carefully watching his reaction.

**_“Omg! My bro @katsuki_y2ui got hurt somehow and we’re at the doctor right now >_< Hope he’ll be okay…”_ **

Yuuri let out a shaky sigh of relief. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Phichit, as tactless as he might be, took care not to divulge _where_ and _how_ he got hurt, even though he perfectly knew it. Looks like Yuuri didn’t need to marinate him, after all.

“Well, that was anticlimactic as shit,” Mari commented, taking her phone back. “C’mon, spill the beans, what’s going on?”

“I told you already; I got hurt, that’s it,” Yuuri replied, avoiding the question. “I’m really glad you’re here, but I’m also super fuckin’ tired. I still have sedatives running through my blood. It’s a wonder that I still haven’t fuckin’ collapsed yet.”

“Sit the fuck down, brother mine,” Mari interjected, pulling Yuuri’s wrist. “You ain’t going anywhere. Also, what’s with all that profanity? Where are your damn manners?”

“Next to my will to live,” he said, letting out another yawn and plopping himself back onto the couch under Mari’s watchful gaze. He eventually caved in. “What? Whaddya want to know?”

“I wanna know how you’ve been, ya mop-head,” Mari answered, cracking a smile at her brother’s dissatisfied pout. “Have you picked up skating in any shape or form?”

“Oh, aren’t I glad you asked!” Yuuri chirped, his tired features sprawling into a hint of a smile. “Phichit and Victor somehow succeeded to drag me to a _rink_! Baffling, isn’t it?”

“Well, kudos to those two for getting your stubborn ass outside,” Mari commented, leaning on the couch. “So, the King finally returned, huh?”

“Very funny,” Yuuri said sarcastically but carried on. “Against all fuckin’ odds, I managed to skate _History Maker_! Well, at least I _think_ that was History Maker, cause, as you may know, I can’t remember shit.”

Mari’s mouth fell agape.

“How, though?” she uttered, confused. “Ya haven’t been practicing for two years and frankly, no offense, but I think you’d fail to land a fuckin’ toe-loop in your condition.”

“About that,” Yuuri interjected, letting out a dry laugh. “I wobbled around the rink for a solid half an hour, while Victor and Phichit graciously swiveled and swirled around like a bunch of show-offs.”

“Ah yes, how scandalous for world-class professionals to be acting accordingly,” Mari laughed. “Truly, how could they do that?”

“Screw you,” Yuuri muttered, yawning for the umptieth time. “At some point, I tried a…what was it, a double loop?” He stopped to ponder. “Yeah. That was it. Long story short, it turned into a half-assed single and I sort of flopped onto the ice like a splat of wet mayonnaise.”

“Thank you for that not at all disturbing image,” Mari cringed, tossing a lukewarm nugget into her mouth. “You still haven’t answered my question, mop-head. How did you manage to even remember what History Maker _sounds_ like, much less _skate_ it?”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My hair isn’t even that bad!” Yuuri shot up, offended. He instinctively reached for his disheveled mass of fluffy hair and let out a sigh. “Okay, fine, maybe it is, but that’s not the point!”

Mari let out another laugh and gestured for her brother to carry on.

“Anyway, so I had this super weird dream at some point, and I think I was genuinely…drugged cause that dream was really weird,” Yuuri mumbled somewhat coherently as his sister arched an eyebrow in confusion. “I saw this random guy, but then he told me that he was actually me! I didn’t believe him cause he had blue fuckin’ hair! I don’t have blue hair; I can’t dye hair for shit.”

“O…okay?” Mari uttered, disoriented. She looked into her brother’s eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking around. But, alas, it was far too dark to discern anything.

Yuuri, however, took the awkward silence as a cue to continue his ever so baffling story.

“Then we started talking and he kept on insisting that he was me, but just stuck in the past, or whatever,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “What I find weird, though, is the fact that he used ‘ _Ore_ ’ and not ‘ _Boku_ ’ as a proper fuckin’ human being would.”

“You’re using ‘ _Ore_ ’ now, you know?” Mari let out, seemingly giving up on trying to understand her brother’s _far too vivid_ imagination.

“Whatever, that ain’t the point,” Yuuri cut off, yawning. He grabbed one of the small pillows and propped his head on it, leaning onto the couch. “Eventually, I realized that he was telling the truth, so I asked him what he was. He got super pissed and started yelling at me, but ended up explaining that he was just a clump of memories. Like, he told me that he could take over my body whenever I felt too emotional, or something like that.”

“How…fascinating,” Mari commented, genuinely alarmed. “Hey, random question; Have you been to a doctor recently?”

Yuuri’s lip scrunched up into a pout as he stopped to ponder.

“Oh, yeah, I have,” he eventually nodded. “Last week…I think.”

“Oh! How was it?”

“Ah, not too bad,” Yuuri shrugged. “Just a…moderate concussion and a few stitches.”

“Excuse me?” Mari shot up, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t I tell you already?” Yuuri asked, frustrated. “I got hurt.”

“You never did tell me _how_ , though.”

“Oh, I went to Skate Canada with Victor the other week. I got cornered by a bunch of fangirls and a handful of journalists who all wanted an interview and whatnot,” he explained as a roaring thunder broke the firmament apart. “I met some random skaters who seemed to know me so much better than I fuckin’ knew them, so you can imagine how _that_ went.”

“You’re…going off on tangents again,” Mari muttered, sighing. “Just cut to the chase, I beg of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it. Don’t interrupt me,” Yuuri went on, shaking his head. “At some point, I had to do to the bathroom and that’s where I saw the motherfucker.”

“Yikes, brother, watch your language,” she cringed, her lips nevertheless showing a hint of a smile. “So? Who was that mystery man? Who do I need to murder?”

“Ezra,” Yuuri simply replied, far too tired to react. “He just fuckin’ beat me up.”

Mari’s expression morphed into an unholy mix of sadness and _fury_. Yuuri, however, didn’t notice and carried on as if they were discussing the weather. His voice was calm and serene.

 _Too_ serene.

“He tried to kiss me, but then I pushed him off,” he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “And clearly, he ain’t used to taking no for an answer, so he kind of…punched me a couple of times. My memory is still fuzzy, so I don’t remember shit. Other than that, that’s about it.”

“My God…” Mari muttered, cupping her face in her hands. “You…did press charges, right? Please tell me you did.”

“Oh, is that something I can do?” Yuuri chirped, genuinely curious. “I didn’t know that.”

Mari’s mouth, once again, fell agape. Was he…joking?

“A-are you kidding me?” she uttered, aghast. “How can you, a fully functional _adult_ , be so damn clueless?”

“Define ‘fully functional’,” Yuuri yawned. He looked at his sister’s angry expression and cracked a smile. “If it’s something that I can do, then trust me, I’ll definitely do it. I hate him as much as you do, believe me.”

“Oh, you’d fuckin’ better,” she commented, letting out a sigh. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“About that,” Yuuri said, chuckling nervously. “I’ve been avoiding it for a little longer than I should’ve.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m kind of scared that a whole bunch of journalists will show up on my doorstep, you know?” he replied, fiddling at his bandages. “I don’t really feel like going to work anymore.”

“But, Yuuri, you can’t just continue like this!” Mari retorted, frustrated. “Sooner or later, it’s gonna come and bite you in the ass!”

No answer.

“You’re being pathetic, you know?” she went on. Yuuri only huffed and looked away, not particularly amused.

Geez, what a child he was.

“Hey, Yuuri, listen to me,” she softly beckoned, just like when they were kids. He turned to face her, his eyes glistening with tears. “I know you’re scared. I really do. But you have to understand that hiding will only make it worse.”

He nodded softly and quickly wiped any lingering tears with the back of his hand.

“Even though you may feel relieved at the moment, suppressing your feelings will only cost you in the long run,” Mari explained, flashing a small smile. “You’re a mess right now, that’s undeniable. But I will help you out, just like back in the good old days, alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, okay,” Yuuri let out, lightly chuckling. “You’re my sister, after all. I trust you.”

“Oh, you’d better!” Mari laughed, despite the gloom in her heart slowly gnawing at her. “Promise me one thing, though: You’ll go and make a court appeal tomorrow, okay? You can’t wait any longer, understand?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. The life in his eyes gradually died as his weary body fell backward, soundlessly landing on the cushions.

He was dead asleep.

Mari let out an exasperated sigh and pushed herself afoot, standing up.

This was so much worse than she thought.

For the past few years, she had been worried sick about her brother’s well-being, watching him like a hawk at nearly all times just to make sure that he wouldn’t push himself to do something that would impact the rest of his life, and that’s putting it mildly.

Mari knew more than anyone just how much Yuuri has been through and how big of a scar it left on him.

A scar that will never heal.

When he finally decided to leave Hasetsu again, just a year and a half ago, it took everything for her not to burn his plane ticket or chuck it in the trash. She was so incredibly afraid that something terrible might happen while he was out of her reach.

And so it did.

“You dumbass,” she quietly muttered as Yuuri’s lower body slowly slid off the couch, onto the wooden floor. “The hell am I gonna’ do with you, huh?”

For a brief moment, she considered carrying her brother to his bed but decided not to, as it was far too late, and she was way too tired for that kind of physical exercise.

Maybe she could just find some kind of blanket and cover him up, so he doesn’t get cold.

She wobbled towards the hallway and opened the door to the first room she could find, which ended up being the bathroom, and not his bedroom like she had hoped.

Well, now what?

Her gaze fell on the clean towels that were neatly stacked on a shelf. She soullessly grabbed one and walked back to the living room and tossed the towel on Yuuri. It barely covered half of his body.

Good enough.

Overwhelmed by the tiredness, she plopped herself onto the other couch and quickly fell asleep.

**The rain had stopped, but it was still raining somewhere else.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mari finally shows up to kick some ass! I love her so much!!! Yuuri is an epic mess, but hey, at least he's alright. 
> 
> Victor, however... :)
> 
> SUPER IMPORTANT NOTICE: This chapter officially concludes the first part of the story! What a journey it has been! Since I have some classes to attend, and I need to take a breather, I am going away on a short break (like 2-3 weeks). Don't worry, though! I will return with more quality content~
> 
> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving some kudos and comments because that way I'll know that you still want me to carry on!
> 
> See ya soon~


	23. Legends Never Die

Victor Nikiforov was truly an astounding man. He was phenomenally talented and, quite literally, perfect. Yes, he was the epitome of elegance itself, blessed by his good looks and godlike skill. Only he alone in the whole world could wrap the audience around his finger like a master magician bewitching their crowd with yet another out-of-this-world trick.

He was a genius, brilliant and so incredibly virtuous that he had been dubbed the ‘Living Legend’ of figure skating, the one who had won countless championships and competitions, climbing the hierarchy with never before seen speed.

His programs were enchanting and unique. One after another, they brought stunning stories to life with such elegance and beauty, they’d leave just about anyone on the edge of their seat, breathless and yearning for more.

However, there was another side to Victor. A tenebrous and undivulged side looming over him much like the moon looms over the sun. He never showed any real emotion outside of the ice, only granting the hungry journalists one or two camera-worthy smiles, but no more than that.

No one could ever figure out just what was going on behind that piercing icy gaze and discontented pout. What some saw as unshakable confidence, others viewed as complete and utter arrogance. However, despite their disagreement, both of those groups shared one common mindset;

Victor Nikiforov was a skater like no other.

So, after all that has been said, why was this Living Legend sprawled on his unmade bed, chugging yet another bowl of instant noodles while completely disregarding the safety of his white sheets?

The room bathed in darkness, despite the sun’s overzealous rays seeping through the closed curtains, casting distorted flares here and there. It was nearing noon and Victor still hadn’t picked himself up from bed, and truth be told, he wasn’t even planning to.

Simply put, he was dead inside. His thoughts and emotions were replaced by an overwhelming emptiness, eating at him like a blight. He didn’t care about the tidiness -or lack thereof- of his house. He didn’t care about what day it was. He didn’t care about what he looked like. He just couldn’t care less.

It wasn’t a matter of him feeling anger, sadness, or regret.

He felt nothing.

He let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, moving his bangs away. He glanced at the foot of his bed, where lay Makkachin, softly sleeping. Poor thing, he was so lonely nowadays…

When was the last time Victor had felt like this? Probably…about two years ago, although it was getting close to three. Such a short time compared to human life, and yet it felt like centuries.

He thought that he’d finally found happiness with Katherine, but now she too walked out of his life, for the better or the worse. He didn’t hate her, not at all. Truth be told, he didn’t even blame her. She did have one very good point after all.

Their time spent together became shorter and shorter until hitting a rock bottom where days could pass without them interacting for any reason other than bare necessities. She needed love and attention and he failed to give that, so what good would it do to delude themselves with everyday lies and wasting each other’s lives?

Maybe it was all meant to be from the beginning.

Victor winced as a strident ringing pierced the silence, echoing throughout the room. He let out an annoyed groan and tossed a pillow over his face, determined to shut the unpleasant sound away.

What a bother…Whoever that is, are they not tired of calling?

Indeed, it wasn’t the first time someone’s tried to reach out to Victor. They had been calling about three times a day for God knows how long now, and they clearly did not know of the word ‘stop’.

Another few seconds passed but the ringtone never stopped. On the contrary, it seemed like it was only getting louder. Sighing, Victor decided to give in and finally satisfy that stranger’s adamant curiosity, in hopes that they’d finally leave him alone.

He stretched out his long arm to his bedpost, grabbed his phone, and pressed the green button without even looking at the caller ID.

He had never heard such a variety of Russian curse words in his entire lifetime.

“Jesus Christ, Yura, what the fuck?” Victor finally let out, fazed by the teenager’s pesky attitude. “Are you the one who keeps calling me?”

“Finally, you're answering!” Yuri exclaimed from the other end of the line. “Took you…what, four fricking days, huh? Not bad, not bad; For a shitty old man like you, that is.”

“What do you want?” Victor asked, not particularly moved. “I thought you were busy training.”

“I was before this shitshow happened!” Yuri retorted. “The hell is happening with Yuuri?”

Victor let out an exhausted sigh.

“He’s fine, just being a bitch at the moment,” he replied in a coarse voice. “I called him like a week ago and he made it clear that he didn’t want to talk, so who am I to disregard his wishes?”

Confused muttering echoed through the speakerphone.

“What’s with your voice?” Yuri asked, genuinely curious. “You sound like you’ve swallowed a roll of sandpaper.”

“Ah yes, sandpaper,” Victor commented, letting out a laugh devoid of any sort of emotion. “My favourite snack.”

“What the-” Yuri uttered in disgust. “Are you drunk?”

“That’s for God to decide,” Victor shot back, yawning.

“Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” Yuri whispered, concerned.

Another dry laugh.

“Well, aren’t I glad you asked,” Victor replied, his voice cracking.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Katherine…she left me,” he finally uttered. And with that, the true meaning of those words finally sunk in. “We’ve…” he trailed off, his voice growing quiet as a few stray tears prickled his eyes. He forced them back. “We’ve broken…broken up.”

Despite the low hum of static interfering on their terribly long-distanced connection, Victor was able to discern Yura’s little shocked huff and an array of half-whispered curse words.

“I…uh…don’t know what to answer to that, my guy,” Yuri eventually said, letting out a large sigh. “You were both so close; She was literally head over heels for you! How the hell did you manage to fuck _that_ up?”

“Listen, here: I feel like shit right now and the last thing I need right now is you and your two-cents,” Victor suddenly snapped, cutting the teenager off. “So would you do us both a favour and tell me why it is you keep fucking calling me?”

“First of all, watch your damn language,” Yuri shot back, gobsmacked. “You really think I care about you that much? Don’t make me laugh,” he hissed, his words full of venom. A hint of genuine concern seeped through those somewhat forced insults. “The one and only reason I keep trying to reach out to your sorry ass is that Yuuri can’t fucking do it himself.”

Victor let out a scoff.

“Yuuri? He doesn’t even give a shit about me, so I don’t get why you even bother,” he said, his voice thick with spite. “Why couldn’t he just call me himself?”

“Are you that fucking stupid?” the teenager exclaimed, his voice resonating through the speakerphone. “Do you not check your damn phone every now and then? Don’t you know that you have people that _care and love you_? Granted, not me, but _people_!”

No answer. Yuri took it as a cue to carry on.

“I’ve spent an _hour_ on the phone with Yuuri and out of the _fifteen_ fuckin’ questions he asked me, _ten_ were about you!” he said. “So don’t you dare tell me that he doesn’t care, when _you’re_ the one who clearly doesn’t!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Victor spoke up, taken aback. “Of course I care!”

“Then why the _fuck_ did you not take him to a hospital?” Yuri yelled; his voice cracked from anger. “Why did you leave him on his own when you knew _damn well_ that it was the wrong thing to do?”

“I did what I thought was right!” Victor argued, vexed. “Just think about it for longer than three seconds; A literal world champion who makes an appearance at a world-class event after two years of being MIA gets injured at the said event! Do you realize the _scandal_ that would follow?”

“Oh, so the public image matters more than-“ the teenager begun before getting swiftly interrupted by Victor.

“You’re not getting it, dammit!” he said, his voice sore. “Imagine the sheer amount of journalists showing up at Yuuri’s doorstep, shoving their cameras in his face, all pressing for insights about something that clearly fucked him up big time!”

Not to mention that such a big news coverage would be like a damn beacon for all sorts of… _unwanted attention_.

“And besides, I left him a note urging him to take care of himself and to get medical help,” he continued, letting out a huff. “What he decided to do after is none of my damn business.”

“Listen to me, you shit,” Yuri began, letting out a sigh. “What you’re gonna do right now is get up and take a _long_ shower, cause judging by the way you sound right now, you’re not exactly pristine clean.”

“Oh, sod off, child,” Victor scoffed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “I’m an adult, you know? I can manage my own life.”

“Can you, though?” Yuri asked sarcastically. “Don’t make yourself into something you’re not; It pisses me off. Go take a shower, then, for the love of God, take your damn phone and call Yuuri!”

Victor opened his mouth to speak, but the teenager carried on.

“Or, better yet, get your lazy ass up and _go see him_!”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Whatever.”

“Good,” the teenager approved before letting out a loud, obnoxious yawn. “I’m so fuckin’ tired of you. I’m gonna go to bed now, so you’d better not forget your promise, or I’ll dismember you with your own damn skates.”

“I love you too, Yura,” Victor soullessly replied, nevertheless arching a small smile upon hearing Yuri’s exclamation of disgust. It was short-lived, though, because the phone let out a dying beep, before the room, once again, fell into complete silence.

He let out a meaningful sigh and plopped himself on his back, facing the barren ceiling. Wasn’t that just the weirdest human interaction he’d ever had?

Well, strange as it might have been, Yuri was completely right. That’s what Victor’s common sense -or whatever was left of it- told him. He was, undeniably, a _mess_.

These past few weeks had been rough; Time hasn’t simply passed by. No, instead, it crawled with the speed of a snail on sedatives. Every day was but a washed-out template of the previous one, his ever so boring routine reoccurring again and again, like a never-ending time loop.

Makkachin let out a soft scowl as it pushed itself afoot and jumped on the bed, plopping itself next to its owner and poking his hand with its soft nose.

Victor’s lips sprawled into a sincere smile for the first time in what felt like centuries.

He placed his weary hand over his beloved pet and gently stroked its fluffy fur. A hurricane of all sorts of thoughts ravaged in his mind, from bittersweet nostalgia to outright dread.

What if Yuuri didn’t want to talk to him anymore? What if there was no way to get back what he’d lost?

No. He mustn’t think this way. There must be something - _anything­_ \- that he could use as a saving grace. Something he hadn’t damaged yet.

But upon throwing a disoriented look at his shitshow of an apartment, his spirits fell even further.

Until…it resurfaced in his mind.

 _The lilies_.

Victor quite literally sprang off his bed and rushed to his balcony with the speed he thought he wouldn’t be capable of achieving with this weary body of his. He had completely forgotten about them for _weeks_ and he prayed to God or whoever else was up there that they were still okay.

As he chucked the balcony door open, he was immediately met with a gust of cold autumnal wind. He felt as if thousands of little needles pierced his exposed skin, leaving but goosebumps.

He immediately crouched next to the large pot and let out a gasp.

The flowers had long withered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Long time no see :)
> 
> I'm back from my break with another somewhat chunky chapter, this time featuring Vic and his pathetic existence lol. I hope you're still sticking with me~
> 
> I wonder, do you guys actually read these notes? :D Anyway, I'm starting my senior year Tuesday, so, unfortunately, I won't be able to update as frequently as I did this summer BUT what I can say is that this story WILL be finished!
> 
> Did you enjoy this chapter? If yes, please sprinkle some kudos and/or comments so that I know that y'all are still here~


	24. When Parallels Unite...

Yuuri let out a shaky sigh and shoved his phone back in his pocket. A merry-go-round of wilted leaves of all sorts of colours unraveled around him as the wind grew stronger. Cold shivers crept up his spine as he clutched the sleeves of his far too thin hoodie, cursing at his own stupidity.

For the first time in what felt like eons, the skies were finally clear, and a cool shade of blue filled the endless firmament. The sun’s rays, though abundant, were completely devoid of warmth. Yet another reminder that alas, the lively summer was over, leaving its place to lifeless autumn.

Skillfully leaping around and across the numerous puddles of water sprawled across the sidewalk, Yuuri ran a mental checklist of all of the tasks he’d have to finalize, ranging from flower watering to…well, deposing the notice of claim into a local court. Easy to guess which one he’s been dreading the most.

He has just gotten off the phone with Yuri and even though this wouldn’t be the first time they’d talked, it still felt just as unfamiliar and awkward. Thankfully, the teenager didn’t seem to mind Yuuri’s stuttering and happily participated in the conversation, answering all kinds of cumbersome questions.

Speaking of cumbersome and awkward, Yuuri’s already crammed apartment -he didn’t mind it as he lived alone- had become even more claustrophobic. In fact, Mari was supposed to be taking the plane back _yesterday_ but instead announced that she, being the “amazing and responsible big sister” has decided to stay for just a little longer. No, she did not specify how long she’d be gracing Yuuri with her presence, but he suspected a month or so at least.

Truth be told, he was more than happy to finally have someone around. Mari did her best to support Yuuri as much as she could, however never missing an opportunity to toss a snarky remark or two. It was, in fact, her who quite literally dragged him out of bed this morning, pestering about how he ought to go back to work if he didn’t want his ass kicked.

Yuuri sighed.

He wondered what would be awaiting him at work. Obviously, he had no doubt regarding the competence of his substitute, but it wasn’t customary of him to leave his shop like that to a third party. Even though he checked on Sky every now and then -she always assured that everything was just fine- he couldn’t really see it for himself and that’s what made him nervous.

Going back…it felt so weird. He had been dreading this moment for the past two weeks now. Reason being his newly found ‘popularity’ and the fact that he was ‘all over the damn news’ as Mari had so eloquently pointed out. He knew that it was pointless to hope that everyone would just forget about him like last time.

After all, he was the one with amnesia, not them.

All he really wished for was just a few more serene days, where he could get his life together and mentally prepare himself to face the world. Was it too much to ask?

As Yuuri turned the last corner, the blatant answer to his question had hit him right in the face.

Apparently, yes, it was.

To his greatest dismay, a small cluster of journalists had swarmed around the flower shop, desperately trying to have a look inside. Clearly, they were looking for him.

He had just a few more seconds until they’d notice him and lunge towards like a horde of hungry lions at a helpless antelope. This was bad. _Really_ bad.

What could he even do at this point? Running away wasn’t exactly an option, since he had to get to his workplace, and fairly soon too. It was nearing noon.

Maybe, if he’d cooperate with them, they’d let him pass?

Who was he kidding? That’s not even remotely likely.

“Screw this,” he hissed and made his way towards the store with a determined step. Just as he thought, half a dozen of heads immediately turned around to face him, wide-eyed.

“There he is!” someone exclaimed, pointing at Yuuri.

“Oh, my God!” another one exclaimed, clutching their notebook. “It really is him!”

And so, a heavenly spotlight was cast upon him as he became the utmost center of attention. He could bask in the warm rays of glory and relish every passing moment of literal strangers gnawing at his feet and begging him for answers.

Or, he could just pass right through.

The cluster of interjecting voices quickly got louder and more unhinged as Yuuri steadily pushed himself past the walls of emerging hands and microphones. What was it with journalists and the lack of tact? Jeez.

He finally found the door of his shop and flung it open, making the little horde shuffle around to get a good view.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet!” He tossed, completely ignoring the million questions that were being thrown at him from every direction. He quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a relieved sigh.

That was close.

He glanced behind his back. The journalists still cluttered around the door, hoping that Yuuri would come back by some outlandish miracle. Well, too bad, because it most certainly wouldn’t be the case.

A familiar female voice suddenly snapped him out of his trance.

“Yuuri! Good to see you’re still alive!”

He swiftly whirled around to face the sound, but to his greatest confusion, found absolutely no one.

He blinked in surprise. The shop had been thoroughly re-decorated in his absence, now taking a completely different colour palette.

The colourful summer flower pots have long left their place to autumnal chrysanthemums and gorgeous batches of various hues of violas and pansies. Tiny pumpkins laid scattered here and there, some decorated, some still chaste. Comedic scarecrows stood tall and proud, guarding non-existent crops from fake crows perched at its arms. The entire room had been skillfully arranged in an autumnal, somewhat Halloween-ish fashion.

“What the…” he uttered in amazement. He was very surprised and pleasantly so! Usually, he’d try to decorate the shop himself, but couldn’t always manage a good job since he was often incredibly busy with other nonetheless important matters, like management and commissions. He was planning to ask Sky to help him out, but he never would’ve thought that she would take the initiative to do it herself.

Speaking of Sky, where was she? The shop was empty as far as he could see.

“Sky?” he called out, tossing his backpack behind the counter. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” he heard her say and his gaze reflexively shot up towards the direction of the sound. A flash of colourful hair suddenly emerged from an array of tall flower pots, before immediately falling back down with a little yelp.

Yuuri’s lips sprawled in an amused smirk and he quickly made his way towards the worktable, having finally noticed Sky behind a tall flower bush.

Upon seeing Yuuri, she flashed a friendly beam and waved at him. She looked visibly relieved. Was something bothering her?

He opened his mouth to ask, but she shot back a question instead.

“Jeez, are you famous or something?” she let out, wiping her forehead with a gloved hand. “I’ve never seen so many people so early in the morning.”

“What do you mean ‘early’?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “Isn’t it almost noon?”

“I’ve been here since ten,” she nonchalantly replied, like it was completely normal to show up to a shift two hours earlier than usual. And he thought that he was making a responsible move by arriving fifteen minutes prior…

“There were _so many_ people at the door!” she continued, somewhat traumatized. “And they clearly weren’t customers because they had cameras and stuff like that! You don’t bring a camera to a flower shop!”

“Y-yeah, about that,” Yuuri began, running a bandaged hand through his hair. “I’ve made a _lot_ of mistakes. One of them was becoming a skater.”

“Oh, so Cass _was_ right!” she exclaimed, seemingly unbothered by Yuuri’s far too sincere confession. He blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Yuuri bridged his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand. What was Cassidy right about?”

“She told me that your name sounded very familiar, so she googled it,” Sky explained, turning back to her work. “And it turned out you were a big shot skater or something like that."

Yuuri couldn’t even muster up enough willpower to answer before Sky carried on.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me that,” she chuckled. “That’s so cool!”

“Ah, I wouldn’t really call it ‘cool’,” Yuuri admitted, loosely waving a hand. “It comes with its own fair share of inconveniences.”

“Oh, really?” Sky asked, arching an eyebrow. “Then, what was it like?”

That seemingly innocent question really put Yuuri on the spot. How could he even begin to explain what it was like if he couldn’t even remember anything? Telling her the truth wasn’t exactly an option either, because he still wanted to maintain some professional boundaries between them, even though they had grown somewhat close.

It’s not like he didn’t trust her. Not at all. He just deemed that matter far too complicated and dark for a Monday morning.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” he instead replied, shrugging. “It’s been quite a while.”

“Aww, okay then,” Sky whined, but her usual smile soon came back.

Her chocolate eyes suddenly lit up and she dropped her tools on the table before rushing to the center of the room, followed by Yuuri’s confused gaze.

“So, how do you like the new décor?” she chirped, vividly gesturing about her. “I had some extra time, so I thought I’d change the scenery a little!”

“I love it,” he said with a grin plastered onto his pale features. “I honestly do.”

“Yay!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her tip-toes. “I’m so happy you like it! I wasn’t really sure if you’d allow me to do something like that, but I figured that a bit of initiative won’t hurt!”

Yuuri nodded in approval. His eyes fell on the almost abnormal amount of far too elaborate bouquets and flower pots just sitting on and around the worktable. Something about them seemed very… _odd._ He carefully examined one of the bouquets.

His mouth fell agape.

“Um, Sky?” he called out the girl, pointing at the table. “Wh- what’s all this?”

“Oh, that?” Sky tossed, skipping over. “Those were the commissions you sent me Friday, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” Yuuri replied with a mix of bewilderment and confusion. “But those were due _next week_ though.”

“Ah,” she let out as the newly-obtained information sunk in. “I see.”

Yuuri arched an eyebrow and flashed a bemused smirk.

“There must have been half a dozen of them too!” he continued, ruffling his hair. “How did you even manage to make them all in…less than three days?”

“I…don’t know,” she shrugged. It was a statement, but it sounded like a question. “I just _did_.”

“I gotta say, that’s impressive,” he admitted, crouching to examine another flower pot. “The only issue is that I’ve told the customers to come in next week.”

“Well, guess who’s gonna have to call them again?” Sky chuckled, throwing awkward finger guns. Upon assessing Yuuri’s lack of response, she just sighed. “Me. I’m the one that’s gonna have to call them.”

Yuuri suddenly let out a hearty laugh, startling the girl.

“Wow, okay, didn’t know you could do that,” she blurted out before catching herself. “I mean- laughing, that is. Cause…I’ve never heard you laugh so I’ve just assumed that…I should probably stop talking now.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Yuuri replied between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well, you sure did!” Sky commented, a grin plastered on her tan features. She let out a little huff and waddled to the door. The clock had struck noon.

The alleyway was already empty when she flipped the ‘closed’ sign back to ‘open’ and twisted the lock in the doorknob.

They were officially open.

“Uhm…Yuuri?” she carefully called out as she watched him walk behind the counter and retrieve a water bottle from his backpack.

“Yeah?” he tossed, taking a gulp. “What is it?”

“Am I getting fired?”

He nearly choked on his water.

“What?” he exclaimed, coughing. “Wh-why would you-“ he began before another coughing fit interrupted him. He held out his palm and took deep wheezy breaths until finally calming down. “Why would you be getting fired?”

“Well, cause you called me in to replace you,” Sky explained, fiddling with her fingers. “But you seem in good shape now, so surely you won’t need me-“

She got swiftly interrupted by Yuuri.

“You overestimate my power, Sky!” he let out, arching his eyebrows. “Don’t you see? I am _weak_ ,” he confessed, gesturing at himself. “I’m gonna need you now more than ever, alright?”

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” she uttered, letting out a sigh of relief. “Unemployment help is so whacked these days.”

“Tell me about it!” Yuuri shot back, laughing. “When hasn’t it been whacked?”

“I know right? It just keeps getting more and more confusing.”

“Precisely!” he agreed, grabbing his backpack. “Listen, I’m gonna drop this off in the backroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure thing!” Sky replied, waving.

As soon as she was left alone, she heard the front door open and the bell singing its usual frenzied song.

Ah, a customer!

Her ‘customer service’ smile faded ever-so-slightly when the person walked in.

It was a man. A _very_ tall man. Compared to her, that is. Then again, Yuuri was tall too, but this man was even _taller_. What was he, six feet?

The first thing that caught her attention, other than his gigantic height, was the man’s bright silver hair – platinum blonde – if you will.

Everything about this newcomer seemed so...how to say... _off-putting_. Everything from his nonchalant yet elegant appearance, all the way to his mannerisms, gave off that mysterious aura that Sky had yet to discern.

Well, actually, she’s discerned it.

He was _terrifying_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another chapter of Yuuri's somewhat-less-miserable-but-still-miserable existence! This time, featuring the lovely Sky~ I really hope that you guys like her, cause she's gonna be here a lot lolol.
> 
> Hopefully, you're enjoying the story so far! If you are, don't hesitate to sprinkle some comments and kudos because I'm writing this on my phone and it's getting l a t e.
> 
> Ciao, imma go pass out~
> 
> Edit: I came back to edit stuff out lmao


	25. ...Worlds Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question for you guys: What other fanfics would you like to see in the future? (After Flowers Fall ofc) What are some of your favorite fandoms? Animes/books/tv-shows, whatever~ I'd love to hear about them, and who knows, maybe that will give me some ideas hehehe ;)

During her short stay as a florist at Yuuri’s shop, Sky has had the chance -or the misfortune- to meet all sorts of people. The shop always seemed such a lively place to be in, and just about anyone was drawn to it, regardless of age and gender. Sky liked to think that her bubbly attitude and joyful personality added on to the atmosphere of the shop.

If a customer looked distraught or melancholic, she’d go out of her way to try and cheer them up, drawing back only when she’d notice their lips sprawl in a hint of a smile. Maybe it seemed too trivial and cumbersome to be useful, but Sky didn’t think that way. Rather, she believed that if she’d manage to make someone’s day better, it was worth it.

Well, it surely was a good philosophy to follow.

Not sure how it would work in _this_ situation though.

Still, she could always try, right?

“Welcome to our flower shop!” she exclaimed with a wide, happy grin. “How may I help you today?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks and slowly lift his head to face her. His already sunken features had taken an expression of deep confusion, riddled with hints of disbelief. Eyes wide, he frantically looked around the room, seemingly wanting to say something, but made no sound.

Eventually, his voice returned. It really shouldn’t have.

“Is this…the right place?” he muttered in a raspy voice, sounding as if he’d had sandpaper for breakfast. “I’m fairly sure I’ve gotten the correct address…”

Sky let out a chuckle, hoping to light up the mood. It wouldn’t be the first time that a customer had such a gobsmacked expression upon seeing her, so much that she’d already gotten used to it. In fact, she already had a response up her sleeve.

“Are you perhaps looking for the shop owned by Mr. Katsuki?” she chirped, arching an eyebrow.

“Y-yes?” the man barely blurted out, running a hand through his far too disheveled hair.

“Well, gosh diddly darn, it’s right under your feet!” she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. She expectantly looked up to the man, waiting for a reaction.

But it never came.

Instead, an uneasy, awkward silence filled the room.

Finally, the man let out what seemed like a very annoyed sigh. Oh God, just what did she mess up this time? She watched as the silver-haired man gave her a once over -she felt as if his eyes were staring through her soul!- and muttered something disapproving under his breath. It sounded like a whole foreign language too!

Jeez, just where was Yuuri? He should’ve been back ages ago!

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand…” the man murmured, in English this time. “If this is Katsuki’s shop, then, pray tell, what are _you_ doing here?”

Oh no…he was getting angry, wasn’t he?

“U-um…it’s not at all what you think it is!” Sky replied, putting her hands up in defense. The customer raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I just so…just so happen to be working here for the time being!”

“How come?”

“Various circumstances, which, I cannot d-divulge!” she said, maybe a little too forcefully. Was it too forceful? Was it too soft? Too rude? She couldn’t even figure it out before the man sighed again.

_Yikes…_

“Is…Yuuri here?” he asked, his voice polite yet firm. Sky thought he sounded either really tired or really angry, but she definitely didn’t want to find out. “Could I talk to him? Please?” he added after pondering for a second.

“O-oh, sure!” she nervously let out.

And just as she was about to turn her heels towards the backroom, the door shot wide open.

“Hey, Sky!” Yuuri called out, carrying an awkwardly shaped object in his hands. “I found the second water can!”

_Finally!_

When he lifted his head to face her, he also happened to notice the man next to her.

It would seem that this man noticed him too.

“Vi-victor?” Yuuri blurted out, blinking in surprise. The silver-haired man only nodded in response.

Sky, on the other hand, let out a large sigh of relief.

“So you _do_ know each other?” she said, chuckling nervously. “Th-that’s good to know…”

“Are you…okay?” Yuuri asked with concern. The girl seemed so tense that her honey skin had taken a deathly pale hue. Now that was worrying.

“Yeah…” she uttered, waddling towards the backroom. She then followed with a tirade of mashed-up words, out of which Yuuri only understood ‘gotta work’.

He watched as she gave him a quick wave and shut the door behind her, leaving a heavy silence.

Yuuri risked a glance at Victor and cringed at his pitiful state. Christ, he looked like a battered dog. No wonder Sky was so damn afraid of him. Who _wouldn’t_ be afraid of this?

Well, he wouldn’t. Not today, anyway.

“The hell did you do?” he asked firmly, not even dignifying Victor with eye contact, going about his workaday tasks as if he was in no way bothered by his friend’s presence.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Victor argued in surprise.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Yuuri tossed. “Then why did Sky run off like she had the Devil at her feet?”

“I…I don’t know!” Victor uttered, genuinely confused. “All I did was ask where you were!”

Yuuri only scoffed in response.

This is certainly not how he imagined seeing Victor again. Well, truth be told, the thought of them reuniting hasn’t even crossed his mind. Not because he didn’t particularly want to see him, but because he was neck-deep in work and other aforementioned troubles, so much so that he barely had any time to take a breather.

Moreover, Victor seemed somewhat on edge too. After all, there must have been a very plausible reason why he went MIA for almost two whole weeks.

Yuuri wondered what it was. Maybe that would be a good conversation starter.

“You look like shit,” he instead blurted out before he even had time to filter out his words.

He heard a dry chuckle.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Victor replied, not particularly moved. His voice sounded raspy and devoid of any sort of emotion.

Yuuri simply hummed in response. It's not like he could refute or disagree…

“So…how are you?” Victor eventually asked, breaking the silence once more.

Yuuri slowly lift his head to face the taller man and granted him a cold, soulless glare.

“Good, you?”

Victor scoffed and crossed his arms. “Damn, dreary as ever, huh? I suppose you’re still cranky after… _that_.”

“What does it matter to you?” Yuuri shot back with unprecedented -and somewhat unintended spite. “Why the hell did you even come here?”

“To buy a car!” Victor replied sarcastically, irritated at his friend’s attitude. “I came to see you. Why else would I be coming here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yuuri shrugged, a devious glint in his eyes. “It just seemed to me like you weren’t interested in my company any longer. My apologies, I haven’t realized that you still needed me around.”

“Really? Is this what we’re doing?” Victor let out, arching an eyebrow. “We haven’t seen each other for weeks and the first thing you do is reprimand me.”

“Oh? And whose fault do you think that is?” Yuuri asked, an unsettling smile on his lips. “ _I’m_ not the one who wouldn’t fucking pick up the phone, _you_ are.”

“Well, maybe the world doesn’t revolve around you,” Victor suggested, turning away. “And maybe, if you thought about it for longer than three seconds, you’d realize that people have their own hardships and can’t always be at your beck and call.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise. An expression of hurt momentarily flashed on his face, before he bridged his eyebrows again.

“ _Anata wa kuso nisemonodesu,_ ” he hissed under his breath.

“What?”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, that’s what,” he said. “I really am baffled at your logic. You leave me hanging for a week and a half, then come to see me and start bitching. And the significance of that…was?”

Victor opened his mouth to shoot back an elaborate reply but got brutally interrupted by the back door opening.

“Okay, lads, it’s lunchtime!” Sky exclaimed, flying into the store. “So, how about you take a _nice_ long walk outside? You know, fresh air, chirping birdies, and that good ole’ vitamin D?”

“What vitamin D?” Yuuri asked, arching an eyebrow. “It’s mid-September.”

“The sun is still up, ain’t it?” she shot back, her lips sprawling in a nervous grin. “Come on, both of you, out! I’m gonna open some windows too…Aerate the room, so to speak.”

Sky quickly ushered them out. Such negativity, so early in the morning…

If Yuuri and this Victor had petty squabbles to settle, they could do it _outside_. Not in the store.

And so, Yuuri and “this Victor” had found themselves on the street. Literally.

“It’s all your damn fault,” Yuuri reprimanded, walking away. “You’re five years older and yet you act like such a child.”

“Hey!” Victor called out, catching up. “I came all this way to see you. Don’t you walk away on me now.”

Yuuri let out a tired sigh.

“Fine. Whaddya want?”

“An honest and elaborate answer to my question,” Victor replied, carefully placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Yuuri froze for a split second but didn’t whack it away.

Not immediately, anyway.

He eventually stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face the taller man. And just as the latter opened his mouth to speak, Yuuri had shot back a question of his own instead.

“You hungry?”

“What?” Victor uttered, taken aback.

“Did you not hear me?” Yuuri repeated with a slight smirk as the wind around them grew stronger, ruffling their hair. “I asked if you were hungry.”

Victor gave the florist a confused once over, desperately trying to discern whether or not he was being actually serious. Well, it’s not like he’d come to a logical conclusion anyway. After all, he was never good at reading people…

“No, I’m not,” he instead replied, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had lunch before coming here.”

Yuuri seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” he hummed and carried on his way, this time a little slower, so Victor had no problem catching up. He watched as Yuuri loosely fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie, either waiting for Victor to speak up, or on the contrary, finding the right words to speak himself.

Either way, both of them stayed quiet. Except this silence wasn’t heavy or stifling like the one back at the store. No, now, it even felt somewhat comfortable. Yuuri just kept on walking and Victor simply followed him, not even realizing that they were getting further and further away.

Eventually though, when they had reached a rather busy intersection, he snapped out of his little trance.

“Hey,” he called out. “Where are we going?”

“You’ve been following me all this time and never thought to ask me that?” he chuckled, shaking his head in a feigned disappointment. “Shouldn’t you be worried about being on time? Isn’t Katherine waiting for you?”

Victor didn’t answer right away.

Eyeing his friend with a confused look, Yuuri nevertheless gestured to the direction he was wanting to go to. Amidst the buildings and paved roads, a clearing arose.

They’ve reached the local park.

The once lusciously green trees have now taken exquisite hues of yellow, red, and orange, gleaming in the cool sun like precious gems.

The cold wind cut through the airs, ruthlessly piercing Yuuri’s far too thin hoodie, sending cold shivers down his spine. Victor, on the other hand, looked perfectly comfortable. He wore a long coat and a thick scarf around the neck.

Lucky bastard.

“Victor?” Yuuri eventually called out as they trailed off the main path.

“Yeah?”

“You still didn’t answer my question, you know?” he reminded, looking up to meet the taller man’s cold eyes.

Victor’s lips sprawled into a hint of a smile. It seemed somewhat forced.

“Well, neither did you,” he retorted.

“Okay, fine,” Yuuri sighed in defeat. “What did you want to know?”

“How have you been?” Victor asked with concern. “A truthful answer, please.”

“Ain’t much to say, honestly,” Yuuri shrugged. “Been to a doctor, got a head scan and some stitches,” he said, showing off his bandages. “Just a mild concussion, like knocking yourself on the ice after you’ve failed a quad.”

Victor let out a scoff and shook his head.

A large weeping willow sat atop the hill they were climbing now. Beside it, stood some benches, neatly arranged in a circle. Yuuri had picked the one with the least shade and plopped himself on it, shivering lightly. The silver-haired man softly sat beside him, quietly sighing.

“My turn now,” Yuuri said, turning to his friend. “You’ve gotta admit, that was a _really_ fuckin’ stupid fight back there.”

Victor chuckled and nodded, gesturing for the florist to continue.

“What’s with you?” the latter asked, arching an eyebrow. “You haven’t been answering the phone for God knows how long and you clearly, no offense, look like _shit_.”

“Welp, that’s one heck of a story,” Victor replied, not too keen on elaborating. “It’s complicated…”

“You can tell me anything, you know?” Yuuri muttered, softly placing his hand over Victor’s.

“Katherine and I broke up,” Victor eventually replied, running his free hand through his hair.

Yuuri’s mouth fell agape.

“What?” he exclaimed, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Victor only shrugged and shook his head. “It all happened so fast…though I won’t lie by saying that I haven’t seen it coming.”

“Well, _I_ haven’t!” Yuuri blurted out. “You…you seemed so close…”

“Yeah…’seemed’ being the keyword,” Victor commented, letting out a sigh. “I just…shut everything off for a few days…I couldn’t bear it any longer…”

“I can imagine…” Yuuri mumbled, biting his lip. Suddenly, all remnants of anger that lingered in his heart vanished. They vanished with a gust of ice-cold wind that just about cut through his poorly dressed body, sending violent shivers down his spine, so much so that he curled up on the bench, desperately clutching his hoodie.

Suddenly, he felt a warm mass engulf him.

_What the-_

He looked up, only to realize that Victor had taken off his scarf and wrapped it around him.

“Wha…?” Yuuri uttered, appropriately gobsmacked. “Why did you…?”

“You’re barely out of the hospital,” Victor simply replied. “You can’t be catching colds at this time of the year, you know?”

Yuuri didn’t answer, too busy looking away.

And so, silence settled once again.

They sat barely within a few inches from each other, not daring to utter a word.

Well, it’s not like words could even describe what was on their minds. Complicated mish-mashes of cluttered feelings and shards of broken memories, haphazardly tied into a messy bundle.

Both men were so incredibly _tired_ , battered, and broken.

But it was okay.

Because the sun was still shining. Because the trees were painted with gorgeous hues. Because there was still something to cling onto.

It was okay…because they still had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyy! Finally, the moment we've all been waiting for! Yuuri and Vic are back "together" (you know what I meant)!  
> Anyhow, I've finally found some time to write cause lemme tell you, senior year is HARD AS HECK
> 
> Welp, if you enjoyed, pls consider sprinkling some kudos n' comments so that I don't die writing the next chapter lolol~
> 
> P.S: I dunno if you can get notifications whenever I update a specific chapter for a second time, but in case you can, don't mind that because I sometimes come back to correct some stuff when I'm of sound mind lmaoo


	26. Only Memories Remain

How long does it take for a person to change? How much time is to pass before all facets of their usual personality are reduced to shards of broken memories and replaced by brand-new mindsets and mannerisms? Does change come quietly, gently seeping onto an unsuspecting victim, or does it fly through the door with a bang?

How does it feel to change? Can one be self-aware of the plethora of microscopic novelties that appear in their manner of speech and ways to think? Or, does one stay ignorant up until the very end, snapping out only when someone else points out their new persona?

Can a person stay the same if their surroundings are always the same? On the other hand, can a person stay the same if their surroundings never stop changing?

What does it take to change? What could possibly become the catalyst to a person discarding their entire personality in favor of a brand-new one? Can one stop change? Or are they simply swept out by unyielding forces?

This is what Victor Nikiforov pondered about as he made his way back to his lonely, empty apartment.

His legs moved weakly. The sun over his head cast a bleary shadow at his feet. Despite it being sunnier today than on some summer days, the weather still felt cold and uninviting.

He took out his phone and checked the time. It was just a little past one o’clock, which made it fifteen minutes after he and Yuuri parted ways for the day.

Yuuri. Speaking of him…

Victor let out a loud sigh, unwillingly catching the attention of a passer-by, who gave him a weirded out glare. He wasn’t phased by it whatsoever. His mind was far, far away.

Feeling is complicated, he thought to himself, running a cold hand through his disheveled hair. He fiddled a loose strand between his fingertips. His locks seemed to have grown quite a bit. Well, that would only make sense. It’s been months since he’d last gotten a haircut.

Oh well, it’s not like it was a big deal anyway. Slowly growing out hair isn’t such a drastic change as chopping it off in a fit of indignation.

He sadly chuckled to himself. He remembered that night like it was yesterday.

_The tiled floor felt cold under his bare feet. A lonely ray of moon escaped through the closed blinds of the window, illuminating the otherwise pitch black bathroom. A pair of scissors loosely laid on the floor next to the sink, having landed with a muffled clank just a moment ago. The sink itself was riddled with discarded bundles of platinum locks, glistening under the moon’s cold light. His breathing was weak and ragged, and goosebumps covered his body as he clutched himself tightly, not daring a look in the mirror. He was trembling, his eyelashes felt heavy and his sight blurred with tears._

_What did he do…?_

Victor shook his head and chased the unpleasant memory away. He lifted his gaze from the barren pavement and took a look at his surroundings. The streets were mostly empty, save maybe for a handful of passers-by, who, just like him, were making their way somewhere important.

A young couple caught his attention. Lovingly holding hands, they walked almost step-in-step, gleefully chatting about something only they could discern. One of them leaned into the other’s ear and whispered a few words, making the other laugh melodiously, like their lover had just said the funniest thing in the world.

For some reason, Victor felt bitter. Not because he was against PDA or anything, but because he could feel the emptiness in his heart gnawing at him, as if peeling off the scab of a healing wound.

How the hell did he sink that low? To feel jealous of random strangers…that was a notch higher on his self-proclaimed narcissist scale than he was used to.

Never mind that, he thought, shaking his head once more.

He passed by a bar. Its usually flashy lights were now bleary and bland, waiting to be switched back on, come dusk. He stopped dead in his tracks and gave the building a once-over.

It looked decent enough. For a moment, he considered coming back here tonight.

But only for a moment.

Victor forced his feet around and moved forward with a lazy step. He chuckled to himself as another memory resurfaced in his mind. It was much more recent, this one.

_***_

_They were making their way downhill, leaving the weeping willow behind. Yuuri still clutched Victor’s scarf as the wind slowly died down. His eyes looked absent, even somewhat dreamy._

_“I remember,” he had suddenly said, taking Victor by surprise._

_“What is it?” he asked, turning to face his friend. “What do you remember?”_

_“I’m not sure…” Yuuri sighed, shaking his head. “I might be just making it up.”_

_“Well, now you’ve got my curiosity,” Victor chuckled. “C’mon, spill the beans.”_

_Yuuri stopped in his tracks and lift his head to face the taller man. Victor blinked in surprise._

_“What is it?”_

_“It was in Barcelona…two years or so ago,” Yuuri replied absent-mindedly. He was desperately grasping at straws of memories of days long gone. “I think it was after a free skate or something like that.”_

_“Okay?” Victor let out, arching an eyebrow. “What about it?”_

_“I don’t know,” Yuuri said, averting his gaze. “It was at a bar close to the hotel or wherever the hell we were staying.”_

_Victor nodded._

_“I remember being really angry for some reason,” he explained, resuming his walk. “And I remember alcohol. Lots of alcohol.”_

_“Jeez, you’ve had a fun night?” Victor chuckled, following him. “Sounds like you were in for a bad headache the next day.”_

_“Yeah, I guess…” Yuuri muttered. “I don’t remember that part.”_

_“Is that all you wanted to say?” Victor asked._

_“No, there’s more,” Yuuri said, looking into Victor’s eyes. “I remember you.”_

_***_

Suddenly, Victor didn’t feel like drinking anymore.

One single question floated around his mind like a DVD screensaver, never hitting the corner:

Just what the hell did Yuuri mean by that?

Yuuri…Yuuri…what an oddball he was.

So much change has happened in Victor’s life and everything seemed to be somehow connected to Yuuri in one way or another. He had reflected earlier on what would prompt one to change and it seemed that this was it.

Him skating anew, Katya leaving…

It was all connected to _him._

Victor sighed again, annoyed at himself.

If Yuuri really was the catalyst to all these changes, then how come Victor couldn’t remember anything about him for the life of him?

They had known each other, they had mutual friends, hell, they even shared podiums at some point!

Well, Yuuri had an excuse for not remembering him. He was amnesiac. Amnesiac after a tragic accident where he had just gone up and _collapsed_ on the ice, falling a good meter or so…

And even though Victor himself had assisted this competition as a spectator, sitting nearly in the first rows, he couldn’t recall a single moment of that event. Nor the next day…nor the day after that. No matter how hard he tried, the delicate threads of his memories remained clumped and tangled.

Who was he kidding? His memory was terrible anyway. He won’t remember anything.

It’s been terrible ever since… _that day_.

That day, that dreaded, damned, terrible, no-good day.

That day, he remembered.

_It was a rainy winter night, somewhere between the snowstorms of February and the incessant rains of March. The roads were dark and foggy, covered by a thin coat of almost invisible ice._

_It was still back in Russia. Was it St-Petersburg? No. Moscow…_

_They wanted to see a play, didn’t they? Oh, just what was it about?_

_Anastasia, could that be it?_

_Well, either way, it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least._

_It was already far past dusk when the stage had drawn the final curtain. Far past the time when the sun would linger in the sky. Far past the time where the roads would be bright enough for one to see a drunk driver gliding at them at over 90km per hour…_

Ugh…no, not today…

Victor chased the painful memory away and looked up -and in time too because he almost walked into a lamppost.

Jeez...what an embarrassment he was.

A sinking feeling of dread filled his chest, leaving cold emptiness inside. He sighed at the despair of his situation and carried on his way home, his silver hair flowing in the last beams of sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my god! I am finally more or less back! School is murdering me and I am quite literally scrambling to hand in assignments...
> 
> Anyways, here's a bit of a shorter chapter, but I thought you guys would like an update, so if you did, don't forget to leave some kudos and comments so that I don't die making the next chapter~
> 
> Thank you so much omfg


	27. Taking A Step Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Dyute, Kkmonkey, Lightsunflower, daisymaybe and Zaria Jackson!

“You really don’t have to go with me,” Yuuri reminded half-heartedly as he held out the front door to let Mari outside. “I’m an adult, you know. I can take the bus by myself.”

Mari only scoffed in return.

“An adult. Yeah right,” she mocked, ruffling Yuuri’s raven’s nest of a hair and swiftly pulling his hood over his head, earning a groan from him. “Don’t you even try,” she warned as he reached to take it off. “It’s still super early and cold and you’re gonna get sick.”

Yuuri sighed but left the hood on. It was pointless to argue with Mari anyway. After all, she was the bigger person here.

Well, not literally. Yuuri was about a head taller than her.

And yet, this interaction felt so much like the ones they had back in Japan. Even though the climate in Hasetsu wasn’t all that cold, just like Vancouver, Mari always insisted on him to be dressed up appropriately, even when it was over fifteen degrees Celsius.

Once she even made him wear a…uh, _Ushanka_ hat to school. Safe to say, it was quite the comedic picture.

He chuckled lightly at the memory as he began making his way to the bus stop, Mari following in his footsteps.

“Whacha’ laughing at?” she asked as they came to a halt.

“Oh, nothing,” he shrugged, his lips still sprawled in a content smile. Mari shrugged and leaned on a pole.

“When’s the next bus?” she asked, pulling out a cigarette.

Yuuri leaned over to the schedule, then looked at his phone.

“Five minutes. It comes at seven-thirty.”

“Mkay.”

He looked at her in slight reproach.

“You still doing that?” he asked, a hint of disgust in his voice, though he played it off as teasing. “You don’t feel like having lungs anymore, eh?”

“Oh, shut it, mop-head,” she tossed, huffing out some smoke out. “You have your fix, I have mine.”

Yuuri didn’t reply, nodding instead. That, she was right about. For the past few days or heck, even weeks, there hadn’t been an hour when there wouldn’t be any ibuprofen or whatever analgesic substance running through his veins. Even though the pain slowly subsided, he kept on taking them, never quite knowing why…

The loudening rumbling of the bus snapped Yuuri out of his little trance. He looked down at Mari, who was busy dropping whatever was left of her cigarette into a nearby trashcan. The bus came to a halt and they quickly climbed in, not before swiping their transit passes.

The engine purred as the vehicle began moving. On shaky legs, Yuuri and Mari had made their way towards the back of the bus and picked a pair of seats facing the window. The bus was almost empty, which was great.

Yuuri had picked the seat next to the window and Mari took the one across him, dropping her bag on the adjacent seat. She watched as her brother dreamily zoned out, eyeing the ever-evolving scenery in awe.

Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her and she poked his knee, making him jump in surprise.

“What?” he asked, confused at her smug grin. “What do you want?”

“I want to know how you’ve been, ya mop-head,” she replied, folding her arms behind her head. “Ever thought about getting back on the market?”

Yuuri’s face flushed, making his sister laugh.

“The hell you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Mari teased. “Don’t tell me that no one has made an impression on you in those past two years if you know what I mean.”

She winked at him.

She fucking _winked_ at him.

“I…no?” he uttered, trying to regain his composure, despite the redness of his cheeks giving him away. Mari just laughed again.

“Really?” she scoffed, arching a brow. “Damn, you’re more latent than I remember…”

It was Yuuri’s turn to scoff.

“Hate to break it to ya, but there’s a big difference between what I’m like and what _you_ remember me being like.”

Mari’s eyes lit up.

“Speaking of,” she said, throwing one leg over the other. “Do you remember some stuff? Anything at all?”

Yuuri looked out the window and pondered for a little.

How was he to explain that he’s had reoccurring flashbacks ever since Victor has stepped foot in his life? _Should_ he even explain that? It’s not like he knew for certain that those fever dream-like flashes were even cohesive, much less real…

Letting out a large sigh, he decided it would be best not to lie.

“I guess?” he said, somewhat unsure. “I think I do but I don’t know…”

“…if it’s real or not?” Mari caught up, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he simply replied.

Mari went quiet for a minute, before speaking up once more.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You tell me what you saw, I’ll tell you whether it was real or not.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

“Weren’t you in Japan at the time, though?” he asked, genuinely curious. “How would you know if it was real or not?”

Mari simply let out a meaningful chuckle.

“You underestimate my power, brother mine,” she replied in an ominous, almost prophetic voice. “C’mon, shoot!”

“Fine,” Yuuri sighed. “Then let me ask you this,” he pondered as if debating whether his confessions we going to embarrass him any further. “I seriously think it was just a nightmare, but…I apparently fell out the window at some point...” His voice progressively got quieter and quieter as he watched Mari struggling to hold back her laugh.

“W…what?” he finally uttered as she let out a choked laugh. “Are you okay?”

She took large, deep breaths in-between raspy chuckles and eventually replied.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she assured, chuckling. “It’s just that I didn’t think you’d remember _that_ out of all things.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

“Wait…so you mean it was real?” he said, eyes widening.

“Yep, sure was,” Mari hummed, arching a sly grin. “So, it was in the middle of summer, hot as _shit_ outside, you know the deal,” she began, dreamily looking out the window. “It was right about the time when you decided to wear contacts instead of glasses too…”

“What do you mean?” he interjected. “I’ve always worn glasses!”

Mari just shrugged and went on.

“Anyway, you tried to open an already opened window without any visual aids and fell _right_ the fuck out,” she chuckled, fond at the warm memory. “You were lucky we lived on the ground floor, ya mop-head. You ruined Mrs. Winston’s flower patch!”

“I…did?”

“Yes!” Mari exclaimed. “She forced you to fix everything in the next few days.”

Yuuri went silent, his eyes still widened. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he could’ve sworn he heard someone laughing at him. And yet, when he turned around to see for himself, he spotted no suspicious people. Maybe it _was_ just in his head…

“Anything else?” Mari asked, arching an eyebrow. Suddenly, confusion set on her features. “Wait, when’s our bus stop?”

He pondered for a second and looked out the window.

“The hospital is still twenty minutes away,” he said, checking the time on his phone. “As for your other question…”

Another memory resurfaced. Was it even a memory? Yuuri subconsciously felt the embarrassment emanating from it.

Oh, yeah, it had to be…

“So…riddle me this,” he carefully began, eyeing his sister’s expression. “Did I or did I not knock over an _entire_ shelf of alcohol at the store…?”

Mari’s face remained emotionless, like a doll’s. Yuuri arched an eyebrow in confusion.

“So?”

“It was _so_ fucking embarrassing…” she finally uttered, slapping herself on the forehead. “God, how did you manage to trip like that? Man, your clumsiness astonishes me sometimes…”

“Ah…” Yuuri mumbled. “So, it _was_ real…”

 _“Yep, sure was,_ ” a voice suddenly exclaimed.

Who was that just now? That voice…it sounded so familiar, yet so foreign…

Once again, he looked around, but there was no one in their range. The bus was almost empty after all.

He sighed. Was he hallucinating again?

No, he immediately rejected that idea. The purring of the engine, the blinding lights of the bus, the smell of burnt rubber and wilted leaves, the uncomfortable seats, those were too real for it to be a hallucination. But then again, what was that voice all about?

He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, almost as if it was coming from his own head. That voice…it wasn’t his own, but at the same time…it was…

Yuuri sighed again and dropped his head onto the window, perhaps a little too hard. A sharp pain pierced his skull as he palped his bandage, tossing Japanese curse words.

“Jesus Christ, bro, what’s with you today?” Mari asked, arching her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re acting so weird all of a sudden.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Yuuri shrugged, resting his head on the window with more care this time. His voice sounded husky and tired. “Just…sleepy…”

Mari’s lips sprawled in a small smile.

“Tired, huh?”

“Yeah…” Yuuri replied, eyes closed. He felt his hair fall over his eyes and tickle his nose. God, it really was getting long, wasn’t it?

“Worry not, bro,” she assured, patting him on the knee. “It’s only for a few hours, and then we can go home. Hell, I can even get you _katsudon_ on the way back, just like in the good old days, eh?”

Yuuri smiled through closed eyes. It was his first sincere smile in a few days…

“Yeah…that’d be good…” he mumbled, choking back a yawn. “Hey…can you do me a favor?”

Mari’s gaze shot up. “What is it?”

“Wake me up when we get there…”

“Wait, no,” she interjected. “I don’t even remember the bus stop!”

But it was too late, for Yuuri’s consciousness was already drifting away.

* * *

_When Yuuri awoke, it was already nighttime._

_Well, saying that he awoke would imply that he was asleep at all. Even though he had just opened his eyes and found himself in this foreign world, he somehow knew for certain that he wasn’t sleeping._

_A beautiful scenery unraveled about him. It was late autumn, and yet he only felt a warm coastal breeze ruffle his hair._

_How did he know what season it was? He just did…_

_He was walking down a beach boardwalk, the shiny moon casting light on the evermoving waves, their crashing sound echoing all around him._

_Barcelona sure was beautiful, wasn’t it? Especially at this time of year…_

_“Katsuki, are you even listening to me?” a foreign-sounding voice suddenly called out somewhere above him._

_Wait…that voice…_

_He swiftly turned around only to find Victor walking right next to him, an amused smile on his lips._

_“Huh?” Yuuri uttered, blinking in surprise._

_“Jeez, you weren’t paying attention, were you?” he asked, smiling at his colleague’s confused expression. “I asked you if you had matters to attend tomorrow.”_

_Yuuri felt himself mutter a reply, but he couldn’t tell what it was all about. No, he was too busy looking at Victor’s eyes._

_Those icy, ruthless eyes, so warm and pure in the moonlight’s glow. Those eyes became the stars with every flicker of the myriads of lanterns sprinkled on the street. They became the sun and the moon at once, glowing in a tender light, yet so fierce and cold once the night set._

_Yuuri never really noticed Victor’s eyes. He never really noticed just how beautiful they were._

_Victor let out a melodious chuckle._

_“Hey, you okay there?” he asked, gently placing a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder._

_Yuuri held in his breath as millions of fireflies set his body aflame from the touch, his heart beating a rhythm worthy of any military march._

_“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nonchalantly replied, even though it took him all his strength to muster those few words. “I’m just a little tired, is all…”_

_He heard Victor hum._

_“I see…” he said, sounding almost disappointing. “I suppose it is late after all. Perhaps we should return? The others are already long gone, you know?”_

_Return? To the hotel?_

_But…wasn’t Ezra waiting for him at the hotel?_

_He hadn’t checked his phone in a few hours now. Oh god, just what kind of carnage was awaiting him?_

_“No!” he said a little too eagerly, startling the taller man. He quickly shook his head in apology. “I mean, no, it’s okay. It’s only nine-thirty, no? It’s not like we have anything tomorrow…”_

_Victor let out another chuckle and ran a hand through his long silver locks, sending the highlights of the moonlight into a frenzy._

_“I suppose another half hour won’t hurt…” he muttered, smiling. “I really do enjoy your company. You’re a good person, you know? Despite that appearance of yours…”_

_Yuuri felt himself chuckle. He turned to face Victor, who looked at him, a fond smile on his face._

_“Victor, I…”_

_But before he could say anything else, his vision faltered, and his world went black._

* * *

Mari nervously tapped her foot as she watched cars and buildings fly past her eyes, one hand resting on the window and the other on the “Stop” button.

Biting her lip, she kept glancing around the evermoving scenery, anxious to miss their stop. She sighed.

_Yuuri, just what the hell did you get me into?_

As if reading her mind, the boy let out an almost inaudible huff and a hint of a smile flashed on his dry lips.

 _Sweet dreams_ , Mari thought, jokingly rolling her eyes at the sight. With his messy hair and ripped jeans, Yuuri looked like a lost puppy. Jeez…

Her mind wandered somewhere far away as she took out her phone and began scrolling on some social media app, periodically checking on the scenery outside.

Five minutes passed…

Then ten…

Then fifteen.

When Mari finally put her phone down, she immediately sensed that something was wrong. Getting up on shaky legs, she waddled towards the only other passenger on the bus, a man in his late sixties.

He looked up at her, an absent look in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” she said in English, a heavy accent seeping through her speech. “Where…no, when is bus stop for hospital?”

“What, the General Hospital?” the man asked. Mari nodded.

“Well, lassie, ya missed it!” he replied, chuckling slightly. “T’was a few stops ago, I reckon.”

Mari blinked in surprise. She didn’t understand much, but one thing she was certain of.

They were going to be late.

She muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the old man and immediately slammed her hand against the ‘stop’ button, nearly flew back onto her seat, and grabbed her backpack.

Yuuri was still sleeping peacefully.

Well, not for long.

“Wake up, mop-head, let’s go!” she exclaimed in her native tongue, shaking her brother by the shoulders. He jumped in shock; eyes wide.

“What?” he uttered, aghast. “Are we here?”

The bus was slowly coming to a halt.

“Get up, c’mon,” Mari shot back, grabbed the boy by the hand, and pulled him outside as the doors opened. In her peripheral vision, she noticed the older gentleman chuckling under his breath.

They found themselves on the street. Huffing and panting, Yuuri looked around in confusion, then back at Mari.

“Where the shit are we?” he asked, bridging his eyebrows. “I told you to wake me up at the hospital, not at the fucking terminal!”

“Well, smart-ass, ya didn’t tell me where’s the stop, now did ya?” Mari shot back, walking in the direction the bus just came from. “So, don’t try to blame me for my inability to navigate in a foreign country.”

“Well, technically, it’s not a foreign country to you,” Yuuri commented, catching up. “You’ve lived here for most of your childhood, no?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong kiddo,” she replied between huffs. “I lived here for most of _your_ childhood.”

“Oh,” Yuuri simply let out, defeated. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“Well, if we’ve come to an agreement,” Mari said, stopping at an intersection. “Would you be so kind as to lead the way before we get even more lost, huh?”

“Right!” he exclaimed, looking around. He cursed when he realized that they were at least ten minutes of walking distance from their destination. “Dr. Wei is gonna kill me…”

Well, no, that wasn’t actually true. Because saying that Dr. Wei will kill Yuuri would imply that they were able to experience anger, or, hell, any kind of emotion.

But alas, the only reaction that the latecomer could ever hope to receive was an unimpressed, borderline soulless glare.

“Why hello there, Yuuri,” Dr. Wei said, opening the door into the examination room. “Well, what can I say, at least you’ve shown up this time.”

Yuuri wanted to chuckle, but all that came out of it was a coughing fit, which he promptly suppressed with his elbow.

“Sorry,” he muttered between huffs. “I’m not sick, I swear.”

The doctor looked indifferent.

“I’m afraid that’s for me to decide,” they said, stepping into the room. As they did, they finally noticed Mari, who was sitting on a chair across the patient bed. “And who might this young lady be? You look oddly familiar…”

“Oh, that’s Mari,” Yuuri replied, struggling to climb onto the hospital bed.

“I’m his sister,” she added on, standing up. “I was here…last time.”

“Oh, finally!” the doctor exclaimed, genuinely happy. “You have no idea how glad I am to see a responsible legal guardian!”

Yuuri let out a sigh. “C’mon doc, I’m not that irresponsible, you know?”

“Shall I remind you of the pesticide then?”

“I…do not deem it necessary, actually,” he uttered under Mari’s questioning glare. “However! I think you will be glad to know that I’ve been taking _all_ of my pills without fault!”

A hint of a small satisfied smile flashed on the doctor’s tired features.

“Well, there’s that,” they muttered under their breath while scanning through Yuuri’s patient sheets. “It says here you are to have another CAT scan, just to make sure that your brain’s nice and healed.”

Yuuri and Mari nodded.

The doctor then quickly proceeded to examine Yuuri’s wounds and body, taking off old bandages and applying new ones where needed, though most of the injuries have long healed. Even the ugly gash on his right temple had begun to slowly morph into an equally ugly scar.

Well, at least his “raven’s nest” hid it quite well.

_Ha! You see Mari? My hair **is** useful!_

“Your eyes are glassy, Yuuri,” Dr. Wei said suddenly, snapping the boy out of his trance. “Are you sick?”

“Err, no,” Yuuri blurted out, blinking in surprise. “Exhausted, sure, but, sick, no.”

“Are you still taking your painkillers?” they asked, palping their patient’s lymph nodes with gloved hands. “Does it still hurt that much?”

“Sometimes…” Yuuri mumbled half-heartedly.

The doctor sighed.

“Jeez, you’ve gotten worse, haven’t you?” they said, shaking their head. “Didn’t you rest at all during those two weeks?”

“I have,” Yuuri replied, choking back a yawn. “I was just…worried.”

“What about?” Dr. Wei asked, putting their instruments away. “Everything fine?”

It took all Yuuri’s strength to nod.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he shrugged off, forcing a smile. “I’ll just go home and sleep it off.”

“Well then,” the doctor let out, turning to Mari. They handed to her a small pile of papers, which she took. “Take these to the third floor. Big blue door in the left hallway, alright?”

She nodded whilst Yuuri sighed.

“Really?” he said, running a hand through his raven mess. “You don’t even trust me with _that_?”

“I will not dignify that question with an answer,” Dr. Wei smiled, opening the door. “Like last time, I’ll call you with the results in two or three days, alright?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Yuuri uttered, grabbing his backpack and jumped from the patient bed, before immediately clinging to it for dear life, lightheaded. He could have sworn he heard Mari chuckle.

“Stay safe, okay?” the doctor said, almost pleading. “You’ve gotta take care of yourself, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Yuuri shot back, offering the doctor a fake, overexaggerated salute.

And so, they left, the door closing behind them.

“Come on, let’s get this o’er with,” Mari said, standing up from her chair and patting her brother on the shoulder.

“You still on for _katsudon_?” he asked with puppy eyes.

“But of course, brother mine,” Mari chuckled. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I'm back with a slightly chunkier chapter! Once again featuring Dr. Wei, Mari (a queen) and Yuuri's miserable state!
> 
> Also, some victuuri...ehehehe
> 
> I genuinely hope you liked this chapter, and if you did, make sure to sprinkle some kudos and comments down there~
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	28. Step, Stride and Glide

Phichit let out a deep sigh as he paraded around his modest apartment, questing for an activity that would entertain him until practice time, but alas, he barely moved in, and as such, his lodging wasn’t all too furnished, and by proxy, filled with many distractions.

With his body paraded his mind as a hurricane of thoughts spun around in his head. He was so utterly and terribly bored. Bored and lonely.

You’d think that a social butterfly like Phichit would have no trouble finding himself friends or, heck, just anyone to spend the day with, but that’s in Thailand, or maybe America. Here, in Canada, he was on foreign soil, and he was just as lonely as he could possibly be…

Bummed out, he crouched next to his hamsters’ cage, which was comfortably resting upon a pile of boxes, surrounded by bags of woodchips and food -not to confuse the two- as well as some pieces of an unfinished plastic maze.

He considered checking his phone but quickly decided against it. After all, what good would it do? He’d spent so much time on social media, the bare thought of it made him sick.

…and besides, the only person he wanted to talk to wouldn’t even respond.

With that in mind, he lifted the cloth covering the cage and opened the hatch, peeking inside. His lips subconsciously sprawled into a smile when he spotted his hamsters curled up in the toy cave, fast asleep.

“Well, what shall I do today, huh?” he softly asked, running his fingertip against the white fur of his pet. “Do you know, Squish?”

Squish only gently squirmed under Phichit’s touch and slightly opened its red eyes, glaring at the boy.

“How do you think Yuuri is doing, huh?” he said, petting the honey-furred hamster. “Chonko? What do you think?”

Chonko didn’t respond, seemingly unbothered by Yuuri’s wellbeing.

“And what of you, Hamsterdam?” he said, poking at the pitch-black coloured hamster. “Should I call Yuuri? Do you think he’d even answer?”

Hamsterdam let out an ever-so-soft screech and sprang on its feet, leaving the cave. It tossed a look towards Phichit before making its way towards the food bowl, snacking on some pellets.

Phichit laughed a little and let out another sigh.

“No, he probably wouldn’t…” he muttered sadly. “He’s never online anyway, it’s like his phone is off 24/7 or something.”

Squish let out a little screech.

“Ah? Should I go to pay him a visit?” Phichit asked the hamster, giggling a little. “Yeah! Yeah, I will!”

He sprang to his feet with newly-found energy and swiped up his sports bag.

“I know! We’ll go skating together!” he exclaimed, grabbing his coat. “Oh, that would be super fun!”

Glancing around his apartment for one last time, making sure he didn’t forget anything of importance, he waved farewell to his pets and shut the door behind him.

All of his morning stagnation seemed long gone, replaced by bubbly excitement in his chest. He let out a happy, shaky sigh and made his way along the street, whistling a happy tune.

And so, about half an hour later, Phichit once again found himself facing the door of apartment 25.

Truth be told, he didn’t even know what to expect. After all, he had gone several weeks without seeing his dearest friend, and the last time he did…well, wasn’t all too joyful. He sincerely hoped that Yuuri was feeling at least somewhat better because he couldn’t forgive himself if it wasn’t the case. He also wondered about what could’ve possibly happened during those weeks, and he wished that it was something positive.

Yuuri deserved it, after all.

Phichit sighed for what seemed like the umptieth time and gave the door a knock. Moments felt like centuries as he bounced on his tiptoes around the place, brimming with anticipation. Eventually, he heard a mechanic ‘click’ of a lock and the door flung open, revealing…

Phichit blinked in surprise.

“Y-Yuuri?” he uttered, aghast. He suddenly felt lightheaded, as if the ground would collapse beneath him any second. “Is that you?”

A happy, somewhat maniacal laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

“Of course, it’s me!” Yuuri exclaimed, ruffling his friend’s hair. “Who didja’ think it was?”

Anyone _but_ you, Phichit thought to himself as his friend welcomed him inside. He stood rooted in one spot, still trying to process the scenery unfolding in front of him.

Yuuri’s oversized hoodie and sweatpants have long been replaced by a fashionable flannel shirt and a pair of black jeans. His once pale, saddened face was now shining with pink tints and a content grin. His eyes were no longer surrounded by dark circles -a result of many sleepless nights-, instead shining with a sharp glint. The glasses were long gone, either forgotten or simply discarded. But most of all, his hair, once short and bland, was now neatly tied up in a man-bun, some of it overflowing into a wavy fringe.

For a second, just for a split second, Phichit could’ve _sworn_ he saw the old Yuuri. It was incredible how he looked _so_ much better than the last time he’s seen him…

He suddenly felt a pang of guilt in his chest. What good of a friend was he if he was so damn clueless about the wellbeing of his _best friend_?

“What are ya staring at?” Yuuri laughed, waving a hand in front of his friend’s face. “Oi there! Earth to Phichit!”

“What?” the latter muttered, suddenly snapping out of his trace.

“You good?” Yuuri asked, bridging his eyebrows. “You look pale.”

“I’m…fine,” Phichit replied. “What about you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Oh, yeah, about that…” Yuuri chuckled. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted you at all, I was really busy, and I’m assuming you were too.”

“Fair enough,” Phichit sighed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze fell on the heavy sports bag laying under his feet and he suddenly remembered the reason for his visit.

“Oh! Right!” he exclaimed, grabbing Yuuri’s shoulders. “We’re going skating today!”

Yuuri’s expression contorted into an unholy mix of bewilderment and sorrow.

“What?” he uttered, aghast.

“Oh, you heard me fair and square!” Phichit said, ruffling his friend’s hair. “ _I_ am dragging _you_ outta your goblin cave, back onto the ice!”

“Ah…I wish I could’ve,” Yuuri began, scratching the back of his neck. “But I’m _so_ busy today, you’ve no clue.”

Mari’s head suddenly popped out of the living room.

“I call bullshit on that,” she exclaimed, tossing a peace sign to Phichit. “It’s Monday, ain’t it? Your day off, no?”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Yuuri sighed, twirling to face his sister.

Mari only shrugged and tossed him awkward finger guns before re-emerging into the living room, as if she was never there.

“Welp, that backfired,” Yuuri sighed, turning back to Phichit, who had a smug grin plastered across his face. “Fine, you’ve got me. Guilty as charged, do whatever ya want.”

“Alright then, grab your coat and let’s go!” Phichit laughed as Yuuri reluctantly obeyed.

“ _Fine_ ,” the latter grumbled, his lips nevertheless sprawling into a grin. “Just, one thing before we go.”

“What is it?”

“If I die, that’s on you.”

* * *

To Yuuri, entering the rink for the second time was nowhere _near_ as nerve-wracking as the first one.

Well, that doesn’t mean that it _wasn’t_ nerve-wracking. It was. Sure was. Just, not as much.

Truth be told, it felt somewhat anti-climatic. His everlasting resentment for skating, his amnesia that turned his life upside down, hell, even when he had finally stepped out of his comfort zone, he got shoved backward so violently, it should’ve knocked out any resemblance of desire for skating for good!

But, no. There he was, standing at the foot of the large concrete staircase leading to the rink. Just like the last time, sometime over three or four months ago…

Man, time flies fast.

Yuuri let out a sigh, still unsure of what he felt. Lately, he was never completely sure of his emotions, how he felt or what he thought. Sure, he could let out a laugh or cry now and again, but even then, he was never certain of the emotion he was experiencing. Hell, he wasn’t even certain he even _had_ emotions!

So…were those laughs and tears all lies? Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Sometimes…not often, but sometimes he’d remember things. Incoherent flashes of an event, disparate snippets of a long-forgotten conversation, shattered pieces of memories he used to call his. Pieces of a life he probably would never even get back.

Because, deep down, he’d already given up on getting his old life back. What good would it even do? His old life was full of thrills and unknowns. His old life had a whole world he used to rule.

It was so vast and beautiful. But at the same time, it was utterly terrifying.

His current life, on the other hand, -save for a few deal-breaking issues- was calm and predictable. And that’s exactly what the current Him needed. He didn’t know much about the old Him, save from some aforementioned flashbacks and some stories he got told, but he’d much rather focus on his current well-being, rather than chase the ghosts of the past.

So then why was _He_ still there? Why was this obsolete, outdated version of him stuck in his head like an earworm, going about his business like he had some form of control over his new life?

Why was the Old Him not letting it go? Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why was he trying to take over something that was never his, to begin with?

Yuuri heard his own voice echoing in his head.

_“As long as there is something that binds your past and present, like a person or a strong feeling, be it hatred or love, I will be with you.”_

As long as something binds his past and present…like a _person_ , or a _strong feeling_ …be it _hate_ or _love_ …

A person…hate…or _love…_

Love…what a fraudulent concept. You fall for a person, become vulnerable to them and their ways, support them, give your everything to that person, only for them to stab you in the back and leave you for dead once they’d gotten bored.

Love was supposed to be precious, priceless!

But, alas, his love was nothing but a dirty lie in a beautiful wrapping. His love was intoxicated, corrupted, broken. And now, so was he.

He would never truly love again.

Then…the “hate” part of that speech would be somewhat more likely.

Still…there was something that ticked Yuuri off.

Why is it that his flashbacks began occurring only after Victor showed up in his life? If a person that bound his past and present was all that it took, then why did Phichit not trigger any sort of reaction? Or Mari? Or his parents? What was it that was so different about Victor that made him…feel like this?

He didn’t hate him, that’s for sure. No, not at all. In reality, he couldn’t even explain what he felt towards Victor.

Fondness? Admiration? Respect?

There was no telling, really. The feeling he felt was…much stronger than any of the aforementioned ones. And yet, he didn’t even know what the hell it was and that pissed him off. He just wished that it would fuck off for a while until he’d find a proper name for it.

Well…he didn’t dare think about it, but maybe-

“Hey-hey-hey, you okay there, bucko?” Phichit called out, ruffling his friend’s hair. “You were so spaced out I thought you’d already blasted off to Mars or somethin’.”

Yuuri let out a laugh and began climbing the steps one by one. “Yeah, I’m fine…” he replied as his friend shoved the rink’s glass doors wide open. “As you said, I was just spaced out, is all.”

Phichit didn’t seem too satisfied with the answer but didn’t push it. Instead, he ushered his friend inside and handed him a pair of skates from the locker room. They weren’t like the rentable skates of the rink. No, these ones were fully black, or at least it seemed that way. In actuality, they were coated with dark blue sparkles that would shine brightly in the light. Perfect for performing.

“Whose are these?” Yuuri asked, bridging his eyebrows. “I don’t recall the rink renting these.”

“Well, obviously you don’t, dummy,” Phichit scoffed lightly, lacing his own footwear. “That’s cause they’re yours!”

Yuuri blinked in surprise. “Mine? But I haven’t-“

“Save your breath buddy,” Phichit interrupted, putting his hand up. “I had Mari bring them here.”

“What?” Yuuri exclaimed, taking a closer look at the blades. He put his hand inside the shoe and pulled on the flap.

Something was written on the inner label. A name.

The writing was messy and the ink had worn off a bit but Yuuri could still manage to read it.

_“Katsuki Yuuri”_

“These _are_ mine!” he gasped; eyes wide. He then turned to Phichit, who had a satisfied smug grin plastered on his lips. “But why?”

His friend shrugged his smile still there. “I just thought I’d make you a little surprise.” He paused for a second. “Something…to refresh your memory…you know?”

Yuuri’s lips sprawled into a smile, somewhat sincere smile.

“Is that so?” he muttered, tying up the skates. “Well, thank you then.”

“Don’t mention it,” Phichit shrugged and stood up to make his way towards the rink, but Yuuri called him out.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “Is…Victor also coming today?”

“Nope!” Phichit replied, pulling his tongue. “It’s just you and me today. Why do ya ask?”

“No reason,” Yuuri said, shaking his head. He felt his heart fill with a light sadness. “Just curious…”

* * *

_Pain._

_Overwhelming brightness_

_A cold prickling his face with a thousand needles._

_Then…a voice._

_“Nice one, Katsuki!” he heard it exclaim. “My dog would’ve landed that Salchow better!”_

_Yuuri felt himself let out a scoff and instinctively pushed himself up. His body felt weary and his hands were cold atop the pale glistening surface._

_“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear ya dissing me in such a nonchalant way,” he heard himself say, grunting and struggling to scramble to his feet. “And besides, the Salchow is Russian. Last time I checked, I ain’t.”_

_He heard a melodious laugh and the whooshing of approaching skates. Cursing under his breath, Yuuri moved his hair away looked up from the ground and saw Victor, standing over him with one of his smug grins._

_“Need help there, princess?” Victor asked, stretching out a hand._

_“Call me that again and I’ll dismember you with your own damn skates,” Yuuri tossed, nevertheless accepting Victor’s aid. “I gotta try again, this is no good.”_

_Victor scoffed. “Really? You won’t give up even now?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “We’ve been here for two hours now, you know?”_

_“And we’ll be here for three more if need be,” Yuuri said, crossing his arms. “So, don’t you write me off yet.”_

_“Oh, but I’m not writing you off,” Victor shrugged, his lips sprawled in a sly smirk. “I’m simply preparing you for your inevitable loss, is all.”_

_“Is that so?” Yuuri asked, matching Victor’s playful tone. He leaned in ever-so-slightly. “Don’t know where you’ve gotten that, Vic-kun, but last time I checked *you*_ **** _weren’t standing in the middle. *I* was.”_

_“Merely beginner’s luck,” Victor replied, shrugging. “Nothing more.”_

_“Oh, really?” Yuuri chirped, arching an eyebrow. “Would you call *this* beginner’s luck?”_

_He suddenly twirled around and began picking up speed. Spreading his arms, he swiftly flung himself off the ice and spinned four times before landing on the ice, his footing somewhat uneasy._

_He heard Victor whistle._

_“Well, I gotta say, I’m impressed,” he said as Yuuri skated towards him with a cocky grin. “I expected a half-assed toe loop. Didn’t expect a fuckin’ quad flip.”_

_“Well, what can I say?” Yuuri shrugged with a playful expression. He looked Victor straight in the eyes and whispered just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m full of surprises.”_

_Flustered, Victor opened his mouth to retort with a witty remark but got interrupted by a door flinging open and a very discontented voice._

_“Yuuri?” it exclaimed, annoyed. “Fuckin’ hell, are you coming or do ya wanna spend the whole damn night here?”_

_Yuuri heard himself mutter something under his breath._

_“Fuck’s sake, patience is a virtue, you know?” he exclaimed with new-found spite. “Give me a minute, I’ll be there soon.”_

_He turned to Victor who had a lost and somewhat saddened expression on his face._

_“Goodbye, Vic,” Yuuri said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “See you around.”_

_“I shouldn’t hold you back then,” Victor smiled._ _Yuuri could instantly tell that it wasn’t sincere._

_He wished Victor would reach out his hand and tell him that he wanted him to stay, that he didn’t want him to leave. He wished that he could stay here, just for a little longer…_

_"Goodbye," Victor muttered instead._

_“Bye,” Yuuri replied, leaving with an emptiness in his chest._

* * *

“Wow, Yuuri, you do _not_ know how skates work,” Phichit uttered, aghast.

“Oh, shut it, you,” Yuuri tossed, scrambling to his feet. “I’m trying my best here.”

“Doesn’t look like it but okay,” Phichit shrugged, watching his friend desperately cling to the railing. “That’s…not how you’re supposed to do stuff, Yu…”

“Well, I’m _sorry_ for being amnesiac and forgetting how to skate,” Yuuri said, letting out a sigh. He looked at Phichit’s disbelieving expression “I’m trying. I really am, okay?”

“No, it’s…not that,” Phichit said, shaking his head. “It’s just that I’m genuinely astounded at the fact that you managed to skate History Maker last time and come out alive.”

“Honestly? Same here,” Yuuri replied between huffs. “It’s like I was running on pure instinct and whatever was left of my physical capabilities.”

“Wait, does that mean that you still don’t remember it?” Phichit asked, swiftly skating around his friend. “Then how did you even manage to skate it?”

“That’s a funny story actually,” Yuuri said, resting on the handrail. “So, there’s this voice in my head that tells me stuff.”

Phichit blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

He ushered Yuuri to continue moving forward and his friend reluctantly obeyed.

“I don’t know how I would explain that,” Yuuri let out, putting his feet one in front of the other. “But, there’s someone in my head that claims to be me. Well, a version of me, if you will.”

“Like your thoughts or something?” Phichit asked, confused, passing a hand under Yuuri’s arm and slowly pulling him away from the rail.

“No, not my thoughts,” Yuuri refuted, clutching his friend’s hand. “The voice. It’s not mine. Well, actually, it is, but at the same time, it’s not. It sounds much more…brutal, I guess…”

“Okay…?” Phichit muttered, making small strides alongside his chiffon doll of a friend. “And what about…that voice?”

“It’s not just a voice, you know,” Yuuri said, trying to match Phichit’s pace. “I saw him…in my dream, or whatever the hell that was.”

“Ah, is that so?” Phichit asked as if he wasn’t deeply concerned with his friend’s mental state. “And what does he look like?”

“Me,” Yuuri blurted out. “Well, not really. He looks the way that I used to look like, according to you and Mari. Acts the same way too…”

Phichit blinked in surprise. “So, if I understand correctly, you’ve got another version of yourself stuck in your brain?” he said, bridging eyebrows. “That’s…totally not worrying at all.”

“Hasn’t done much harm so far,” Yuuri agreed, not picking up on his friend’s sarcastic remark. “Just keeps bitching from time to time, is all.”

“Good to see nothing has changed,” Phichit scoffed, suddenly taking his hands off Yuuri, leaving him to fend for himself.

“Hey! What’s that for?” Yuuri exclaimed, panicking. “Get me back to the rail!”

“Get there yourself,” Phichit smiled, pointing towards the wall. “It ain’t too far. Just a couple ‘o strides.”

“I swear to God, I will marinate you,” Yuuri grumbled, trying to keep his balance.

“Not like this, you won’t,” his friend laughed, skating away. “Why don’t you have the Yuuri that’s in your head help you out, huh?”

“Cause I told him to fuck off the other day and now he’s pissed off at me.”

“Unfortunate,” he shrugged, skating in loops around his friend, just out of his reach. “But fair.”

Yuuri let out a disgruntled sigh and began making his way towards the railing. Well, at least he tried to. His strides were uncertain and wobbly and he looked like he would fall any second.

Eventually, though, he finally managed to reach the wall of the rink and let out a huff of relief, clinging onto it for dear life.

He heard Phichit burst out in laughter somewhere nearby and turned to face him.

“My, my, so you _have_ made it alive, after all,” his friend commented. “Impressive.”

“Why are you standing so far away?”

“Because I value my life,” Phichit shrugged. “Cause something tells me that staying anywhere within your reach is dangerous.”

“Good to see that your survival instincts are still on point,” Yuuri chuckled. “Just you wait till I take these knife-shoes off.”

“Ooh, how scary,” Phichit mocked, skating in loops around his friend. “Honestly, though, there’s still one thing that confuses the hell out of me.”

“What is it?”

“Was it really you who set the world record or was I just tripping when I read the name?”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, kidding!” he laughed. “But in all seriousness, your skills -or rather, lack thereof- are _fucking_ rancid.”

Yuuri burst out in laughter. “Never have I _ever_ heard someone qualify skills as ‘fucking rancid.’”

“But it’s true!” Phichit exclaimed. “Full offense, your skating is no good!”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” Yuuri asked, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I’m the person I used to be. People change, you know?”

“I know that, but I’m sure that you can do it if you put your mind to it!” Phichit said, leaning on the rail just out of Yuuri’s reach. “That’s what you always used to say!”

Yuuri blinked in surprise. “For real?”

“Yes!” Phichit nodded. “So, what do you say? Do you wanna come back?”

Yuuri stared at his skates, unsure of what to say. He wanted to come back, he really did. But at the same time, he was scared…scared that he wouldn’t be up to par, that he wouldn’t be good enough, but deep down, he knew that he missed that life.

Still, he had to choose. This couldn’t go on forever.

Phichit must’ve sensed it because he gently placed a hand over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Yuuri, I want to be here for you,” he said, his lips sprawling into a smile. “I want to have you by my side again.”

“You’re not doing this out of guilt, are you?” Yuuri asked, bridging his eyebrows. “Cause I don’t want you to bend over backwards to atone for things I don’t even blame you for.”

“No, it's not that,” Phichit replied, shaking his head. “I really do want you back, though the choice is still yours to make.”

“Yeah…I understood that,” Yuuri nodded, letting out a sigh.

“And besides…” Phichit continued with a smile. “I think there’s _someone_ _else_ who would be very happy to see you on the ice again.”

“Is…that so?” Yuuri asked, arching an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”

Phichit only shrugged and flashed a devious grin.

_“That’s a secret only the old Yuuri and I can bear.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I am still alive! 
> 
> My exams are over (thank god) and now I'm finally on break! Hopefully, that means more frequent updates of the story~
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed it, don't forget to sprinkle some kudos and comments, so that I know that you guys are, too, still alive~


	29. Meant To Be Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING -> Some [v e r y s l i g h t] non-con in the first part (in italic)

_The loud slam of the rink doors closing echoed throughout the nightly street as Yuuri went down the steps, one by one, not daring to look at his boyfriend. He let out a short, barely audible huff and tossed his hood over, not because of cold; the weather was fairly pleasant, actually. He did it to have at least some form of an excuse to not look in Ezra’s general direction._

_God knows what would set him off this time._

_“You cold or what?” Ezra suddenly asked, pulling at Yuuri’s hood._

_Yuuri didn’t reply, nodding instead._

_“Fuckin’ hell, you’re a weird one,” Ezra continued. “Why do you even bother practicing so late into the night? It’s not like that’ll help you or anything.”_

_“I wanted to get my Salchow done,” Yuuri replied in a monotone voice. “And tonight was my only available night.”_

_“Yeah, a night you could’ve spent with me, your boyfriend!” Ezra retorted with a scoff. “But instead, you chose to spend it with that fuckin’ Russian twink! What is he, your coach, or some shit?”_

_“He’s not my coach,” Yuuri said, suppressing the urge to punch Ezra in the face at the last bit. “And he’s not a twink either.”_

_“Sure as fuck looks like one,” Ezra shrugged with a smug grin._

_"He's not even gay."_

_"Doesn't stop him from looking like a twink," he commented nonchalantly and looked over at Yuuri with a haughty glare._ _“What’s with that face? You’re awfully defensive of him.”_

_“And what about it?” Yuuri shot back, lifting his gaze at Ezra. “You can’t just talk shit about people and expect no reaction.”_

_“Don’t be so sensitive,” Ezra tossed, arching an eyebrow. “Or I might just start suspecting things.”_

_Yuuri blinked in surprise._

_“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”_

_“I don’t know, you tell me,” Ezra said as they walked through the automatic hotel doors. “Should I be suspecting things?”_

_“Again, what the hell does that mean?” Yuuri asked, bridging his eyebrows. “Suspecting what?”_

_“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb,” Ezra grumbled as they rode the elevator to their hotel room. “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”_

_“I really don’t but okay,” Yuuri shrugged, looking away. “Whatever it is, you’ve nothing to worry about…”_

_Ezra remained silent for the remaining moments of their long elevator ride to the tenth floor of the hotel. Too silent…_

_Finally, they have reached their room. With one swift movement, Ezra unlocked the door with the card key and opened the door, gesturing Yuuri inside. An unusually sweet gesture on his part. Is that his way of asking for forgiveness?_

_The room was dark. Awfully dark. The lights were off, the curtains - drawn. So dark, Yuuri could barely distinguish his surroundings. He took off his hoodie and watched Ezra close the door, cutting off the only source of light in the room._

_Yuuri sighed. The hell was it so dark for?_

_As he was reaching for the light switch, he suddenly sensed a strong grip on his shoulders and felt a dull ache spread all throughout his body as his back collided with the wall._

_“What the hell?” he gasped in shock. “Ezra, what are y-“_

_Ezra’s lips unexpectedly pressed on his._

_“H-hey, what are you doing?” Yuuri blurted out, breaking the kiss. He tried to push Ezra away but his grip got even tighter, making the boy wince in pain._

_“You said that I have nothing to worry about, right?” Ezra said in a low growl, pulling on the collar of Yuuri’s shirt, exposing his collarbone. He gently traced over it with his finger before pressing his lips over the bare skin, leaving painful marks behind._

_“Stop it, damn it,” Yuuri muttered, catching his breath. “You’re hurting me.”_

_“Aw c’mon, don’t be such a pussy,” Ezra beckoned, reaching under Yuuri’s shirt. “I know you want this.”_

_“Fuck off!” Yuuri shot back, whacking his boyfriend’s hands away but he once again felt a tight, forceful grip on his shoulder and the cold hard surface of the wall. He cringed in pain as Ezra leaned in and whispered barely audibly, eerily stretching out his every word._

_“You’re not going anywhere, Yuuri.”_

"No..." Yuuri mumbled in between heavy breaths. "Leave me alone."

His vision basked in darkness, polluted by distorted flares. Sharp pains pierced his skull and an unpleasant cold spread throughout his body, leaving goosebumps behind.

"Yuuri!" a voice suddenly exclaimed from somewhere very far away, just audibly enough for him to discern his own name. Alas, the identity of the speaker remained unknown.

"Yuuri!" it exclaimed again, louder this time. Yuuri shivered as he felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately whacked it away.

Bit by bit, his eyes began adjusting to the darkness, but he still couldn't discern anything other than his own hands. The hotel room slowly began morphing into something hideous. His surroundings began glowing brighter and brighter as the air began feeling cooler and cooler.

Then...something warm suddenly engulfed him.

"Yuuri, it's okay...you're okay," the voice hushed ever-so-softly, right next to his ear. Yuuri gasped in surprise.

That voice...it wasn't Ezra.

When he finally risked opening his eyes anew, he found himself kneeled upon the cold glistening surface, tightly embraced in Phichit's arms, who was still whispering words of reassurance into Yuuri's hoodie.

A warm wave of relief submerged his heart. It was just a flashback...another flashback. He was okay...everything was okay.

He let out a sigh of respite and muttered a half-hushed 'thank you' to his dearest friend.

"Are you okay now?" Phichit asked pulling away. Yuuri sheepishly nodded. "You just went quiet all of a sudden and next thing I knew you were on the ground, hyperventilating..."

"I'm...alright," Yuuri said, accepting Phichit's helping hand. His knees were wet and sore from being pressed onto the ice for so long. He let out a small huff and grabbed the handrail -which was just within his reach- and slowly began making his way towards the exit.

"What happened?" Phichit asked, following his friend closely, ready to catch him at any moment.

Yuuri's expression shifted to an unholy mix of embarrassment and disdain. He really didn't feel like going into the details of the...incident he'd just witnessed in his head.

"I just...remembered something, is all," he explained, running a hand through his hair. His bun long came loose and his locks fell all over his face and the hair tie came tangled on his fingers. He sighed anew. "Happens now and then. Nothing to worry about."

"What was it about?" Phichit carefully asked as they sat down on the benches. "If you...wanna tell, that is."

Yuuri simply shook his head in response and Phichit nodded in understanding.

"We've been here for a while, don't you think?" he pointed out after a minute or so of silence has passed. "Aren't you hungry?"

Yuuri let out a small sigh and his lips sprawled into a hint of a smile. "I'd kill for some noodles right now," he chucked, twirling a lock of hair between his fingers.

"Noodles, huh?" Phichit said, looking up. "Shrimp fried rice, now _that_ 's something to kill for."

"Fair enough," Yuuri shrugged, standing up. "Nothing compares to katsudon anyway."

"As much as I love katsudon," Phichit said, getting up himself. "That's gotta be the hottest take of the century."

"Oh yeah?" Yuuri retorted with a satisfied smirk as they made their way towards the locker room. "Then, pray do tell, what's the best food there is?"

"Chicken curry, period," Phichit replied, opening the doors for his friend.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Weirdo."

"Why?"

"Clearly, you've never had cold French fries at three in the morning," Yuuri pointed out with a haughty air as he struggled to take off his skates.

"Clearly, _you've_ never burned yourself with Tom yum soup at a family gathering," Phichit scoffed.

"Ouch, harsh no on that one," Yuuri laughed, pulling on his own shoes and taking his skates. "Fine, you win. Where do I put these?"

"Oh, just shove 'em in that locker, no one uses it except me," Phichit replied, grabbing his sports bag and pointing to a locker.

Yuuri nodded and obeyed his friend's instructions as the latter waited for him at the entrance.

"Uh...Yuuri?" Phichit called out, catching his attention. "I think we might have a slight problem."

"What is it?" the latter asked his friend whose face was almost glued to the big glass doors of the rink. The weather outside was partly cloudy and the skies, though gray, were still irradiated enough for the day to be called clear.

Well...if that was the case, why did he spot such a large, darkened cloud at the stairs of the rink?

"What the fuck is that?" Yuuri asked, approaching the glass doors to get a clearer view of the outside.

As he did, a morbidly comedic image formed itself in front of them.

That was no cloud, but a swarm!

A swarm of journalists, if you will.

"Okay, Yuuri, here's the plan," Phichit said, twirling around and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. " _That_ ," he commented, pointing to the crowd. "Is a lotta people."

"Yes, I can see that," Yuuri nodded, arching an eyebrow. "What's the plan?"

"You know the area like the back of your hand, _right_?" Phichit asked.

"Yeah..."

"Good. Here's what we're gonna do," he continued, pointing at the street leading north. "I take off in there," he turned to face the street leading west. "You take off there."

Yuuri's lips subconsciously sprawled in a sly grin.

"We lose 'em and then meet up at the usual spot?"

"Correct," Phichit grinned, matching Yuuri's playful tone. "Give it, what, ten, twenty minutes till we make it?"

"Sounds right," Yuuri nodded, placing himself in front of the doors. He let out a little scoff. "Just like in the good ol' days, huh?"

"Damn right you are," Phichit agreed, laughing. "So, at the count of three. Ready? One...two..."

"Three!" Yuuri exclaimed, flinging the doors open and bolting down the stairs with unexpected speed, dodging the hoards of journalists and paparazzi, pushing through the flashes of the cameras, almost flying head-first into a far too lengthy microphone but skillfully ducking away in the end.

He turned around only to see Phichit sprinting down the street, a wide, borderline delirious smile plastered across his face. A little crowd, about half of the whole group followed suit in a much comedic fashion.

Yuuri let out a happy, liberating laugh as he threw one leg in front of the other, fully forgetting his morning incident. Fresh air filled his lungs, his heart pumped adrenaline through his veins. For a brief moment, no nightmares bothered him any longer.

No, all he focused on was the intermittent sound of his feet colliding with the pavement, the hem of his coat catching in the wind, like a pair of wings.

He had been jogging along the main street for a few minutes now, chuckling lightly, satisfied with himself.

Looks like his training has paid off, after all.

Indeed! For the past week or so, Yuuri has secretly been out jogging every morning and night, making laps around his housing agglomeration or the park, depending on his mood.

Well, it wasn't really of his own initiative, though. Against all odds, it was actually Yuri who reached out to him. He had called once, in the dead of the night, his voice filled with energy, joyfully yelling about how Yuuri should definitely start training to become super strong and maybe even come back to competition.

Even though Yuri's claims seemed outlandish and borderline impossible, Yuuri still tried his damn best to please his friend, especially now that he knew what kind of relationship they had in the past.

Yuuri glanced behind him and smiled when he noticed that the crowd was no longer following him, or, even if they were, he was really ahead of them.

His running turned into a light jog as he continued to advance on the western street, periodically reminding himself of his surroundings. Just as Phichit pointed out, he had the map of the area inked into his mind.

He looked up at a nearby balcony and saw an array of hanging flower pots, sheltering an almost withered batch of Yukka and a flowerless Bergenia. His gaze trailed on the Yukka for another second as he figured that it needed watering.

After the 'hanging pots' house, he turned left into a smaller alleyway, consisting of mostly residential homes and apartment complexes. It wasn't a very rich neighborhood, but the residents here still valued the aesthetic and the cleanliness of their district and always kept the grass mowed and the roads stripped of lifeless leaves.

And leaves, wow, God knows there were many. Indeed, the roadsides were almost full to the brim with decennial maples and oaks, standing tall and proud, mixed in with the occasional pine. The autumn was still young, but most of the leaves had long discarded their lively greens for rich hues of reds and oranges.

What a shame that it wasn't sunny today. The rays of sunshine reflecting on that mosaic of fiery tones surely would've been majestic to look at.

And just like that, Yuuri had reached the end of the small alleyway, once again winding up on the main street. His light jog turned into a walk as he wasn't worried about a hoard of paparazzi taking him by surprise, surely, he must've lost them by now.

The road wasn't bustling for a Monday afternoon, and there weren't a lot of pedestrians on the sidewalks either, which was understandable, since most people were at work and as far as he knew, there weren't any school holidays that would prompt kids to go outside.

He reminded himself that he had to meet up with Phichit in about five to ten minutes, but his phone showed no new notifications. He considered texting him but decided otherwise. After all, he was just ten minutes of walking distance within the local Thai Express, aka their meeting spot for the day.

Yuuri suddenly heard an array of exclamations and loud chatter somewhere nearby.

Damn it, could it be that they were still around, after all?

He tossed on his hood and decided to jog the rest of the way, fearing to be chased once again. 

"What a pain," he muttered to himself as his gaze lingered on the group of journalists popping out behind the corner somewhere behind him. Looked like there was a lot less than before. Could it be that the others gave up? Well, he sure hoped so, because he was, quite frankly, getting tired of this whole ordeal. Literally.

It would take him five minutes to jog to his destination, and he'll turn the corner as soon as he spots that one palm tree resting on a front porch of a café...

He was deep in thought, scheming as his eyes were still focused on the damned group, watching their every move.

A sharp pain suddenly spread throughout his body as he ran into a pole.

He cursed under his breath and stopped dead in his tracks.

_Wait._

Something was wrong.

Why was this pole _warm_?

Yuuri turned around to face the obstacle he'd collided with, taking a good look at it.

His breath suddenly caught in his throat and his heart picked up its pace.

That _thing_ was no pole. It was worse. So, so, _so_ , much worse.

"Ah, _Yuuri_ ," it said, eerily stretching out the 'u'. "What a coincidence, huh?"

No, this could _not_ be real.

It was Ezra.

There he was, living, breathing, just standing there, unbothered! Still the same satisfied smirk and arrogant air. Still the same leather coat and boots. Still the same shitty attitude.

Still the same horrendous memories.

Yuuri's blood ran cold when he heard the lively chatter approaching closer and closer, ticking down the remaining seconds until the point of no return. He ordered his feet to run, move, anything, but he was completely paralyzed. Completely and utterly at the mercy of his two nightmares all at once.

Ezra, however, didn't seem too fazed. He scoffed and leaned into Yuuri's ear, whispering:

_"You're not going anywhere, Yuuri."_

Satisfied, he forcefully grabbed his hand, nearly digging his claw-like nails into Yuuri's sensitive wrist, nearly making him let out a yelp.

Yuuri would've liked to retort with a witty remark, to say that he's not afraid of him anymore, that he had long moved on from his past, and that he no longer cared for him.

He would've loved to pierce Ezra's eyes with his own and whack his hand away, breaking into a sprint.

Most of all, he would've loved to have the strength to utter at least a _single word_ and not just stand there with his mouth agape like a damn idiot.

The worst part is, he was certain that the older Yuuri would've had the strength to do it. He would've had no difficulty getting out of this situation.

Wait! There was an idea! It was crazy and idiotic but still better than watching the claws of his downfall slowly close on his only chance of escaping this horrid nightmare.

He internally called out his alter-ego, begging him for help, almost breaking into a prayer. He desperately needed advice, even if it was just one word.

 _Please_ , he thought to himself, _I need help_.

But nobody came.

And so, all Yuuri could do is watch his chance of escaping shatter in pieces as the hoard of journalists approached closer and closer, breaking out their cameras and blinding lights.

Cold panic filled him to the core as he realized that the footage of those devices was most likely going to be broadcasted, even if against his will.

People shouldn't see this! Hell, _no one_ could see this!

What if Phichit saw that?

What if Mari saw that?

Oh no. Oh _no._

What if _Victor_ saw that? 

Yuuri tried to bolt away one last time, but the grip on his wrist tightened, making him wince in pain.

“Didn’t you hear?” Ezra asked with a carefree smile, a polar opposite of his icy cold voice. “You’re staying here with me.”

Yuuri looked up to meet his eyes but they weren’t happy. No, it was a glare that pierced his soul to the very core. It was a warning. A warning that he would end up even worse if he tried to pull anything off.

Though he desperately wanted to, he couldn’t do anything anymore because alas, he was already surrounded by a whole bunch of uncourteous strangers, swarming around him like a pack of hungry dogs around a plate of fresh meat.

Because that’s exactly what he felt like right now. A lifeless piece of meat.

Loud exclamations and seizure-worthy bursts of blinding lights flashed out into his face as he hopelessly tried to keep at least a neutral expression and not one filled with the morbid dread he was experiencing right now.

“Katsuki Yuuri, a few questions, please!” some woman cried out. He opened his mouth to refuse but Ezra had already replied with an enthusiastic ‘yes, of course!’.

God, he wanted to punch him in the face. He knew that Ezra did that on purpose, fully aware of how much it would make Yuuri uncomfortable.

What a goddamn scumbag.

“Where have you been since your accident?” the woman continued. “What have you been up to?”

Once again, Yuuri opened his mouth to flip her off, but a sharp pain piercing his wrist forcefully made him reconsider.

“Oh, _we’ve_ been recovering from the injury,” Ezra replied with a nonchalant smile. “I was helping him around with rehabilitation and stuff. You know how hard it is to go to the doctor every week, isn’t that right _babe_?”

_We?_

_Babe?_

Just what kind of fucked up was this man’s thinking?

“Y…yeah,” Yuuri sheepishly replied, forcing out a convincing smile. “You’ve been _such a big_ help.”

“Katsuki, Katsuki!” another man exclaimed. “Have you been practicing? Have you already recovered enough for a competitive level?”

Of course not, what kind of question was that?

“For sure!” Ezra replied instead. “ _We_ ’ve been already working on getting back on track as soon as possible. Maybe next season, right _Yuuri_?”

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

What? Next season? No fucking way.

“Ah, I don’t know about next season,” he shook off with a chuckle, trying to sound as natural as possible. “I don’t feel ready just ye-“

“Babe, don’t worry about it,” Ezra cut off with a large smile. “ _We_ ’re gonna get through it together.”

Yuuri forced himself to nod and mentally cried out for help again, but alas, there was no answer. However, weird as it may be, he could’ve sworn he felt Other Yuuri’s presence within him, as if the latter was just watching from the sidelines, unbothered.

 _Well, fuck you too,_ he thought to himself.

“Another question, please!” someone else exclaimed within the crowd, though Yuuri couldn’t discern who it was. “Regarding your personal life…”

Oh no.

Why did they have to ask about _this_ out of all things?

“…how has your relationship been since the accident?”

There. The question he dreaded the most.

There was no way for him to tell the truth, Ezra wouldn’t let him anyway. And even if he tried and had gotten away with it, there was just no telling what the consequences would be.

He was trapped. Caught in an ugly, venomous lie like a butterfly caught in a cobweb. The more you try to squirm your way out, the deeper you sink and the more entangled and stuck you become. Yuuri knew this. Perfectly well.

It goes on and on until you’re finally entwined to the point where you’ve no margin of maneuver, then all you can do is watch as your death slowly approaches you, draining you of life…bit by bit.

Bit by bit, your hopes and dreams turn into lifeless despair.

Bit by bit, your world collapses as you watch the evil prevail.

Bit by bit, you feel the life leaving your body.

And when you finally get a chance to escape certain doom, when you finally see a bright light amongst never-ending darkness, when you finally have the hope to live another day…

“Oh, we’ve been doing just great!” Ezra chucked with a convincing smile and passed an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Those two years _really_ brought us together.”

…It gets crushed, destroyed, annihilated before your very eyes.

People around Yuuri grew blurry, merging into one hideous blob. The background became unclear, the cars and buildings turning into fuzzy shadows devoid of life or colour. The lively chatter and the clicking of the cameras became muted and indistinct.

The sharp pain piercing his wrist partially snapped him out of his trance and he felt himself reply in a moderately convincing fashion, yet he didn’t even know what he was saying. He could be agreeing with Ezra for all he knew.

_Yuuri, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?_

That voice…

Someone else asked another question about his personal life. He blurted out a reply. Whatever he answered, it definitely wasn’t the truth, that much he knew.

_What the fuck did you just say?_

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely doing super well,” he heard Ezra say in a sly voice. “Maybe even…take it to the next level sometime, you know?”

_No. This can’t be happening. Yuuri! Do something, dammit!_

The grip on his wrist tightened, urging him to react. He forced his lips into a smile and let out a convincing chuckle. “Oh, you!”

_Why the hell are you laughing? You shouldn’t be laughing! Yuuri, snap out of it!_

But Yuuri couldn’t just snap out of it. He was imprisoned, bewitched, intoxicated by the horrible lies he was forced to maintain.

Another question, another fraudulent answer, another step towards the point of no return.

_Yuuri, wake up! Come on, don’t sink any deeper! God fucking dammit…I gotta figure something out…_

_Something to snap him out…something to…_

_Wait! I got it!_

_Yuuri! Victor, think of Victor!_

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

The blurry blights in his vision slowly but surely began morphing back into their original forms and the sounds gradually got clearer and clearer, to the point where Yuuri could fully discern them.

He had to leave. Now.

Ezra was still ongoing about a wonderful story they’d shared together that most definitely never happened, his arm still passed around Yuuri’s shoulders, like a prisoner’s shackle.

Maybe, just maybe, if he could get his arm off him, then he’d have a chance to bolt. It was crazy and probably very stupid, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

He looked around him and spotted the fastest route to his and Phichit’s meeting spot. And by the way, it was already long past the agreed time.

All he really needed was to get there as fast as possible. Then, he’d be fine. Ezra wasn’t a local and he’d easily lose him should he ever chase him.

Yuuri tried moving Ezra’s arm off him, but a sudden piercing pain in his wrist stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Where are you going, babe?” he asked in an innocent voice, his eyes drilling through his soul. “You have to leave? Is that it?”

Damn it…what to do now?

Yuuri shook his head with a chuckle and mentally called out to his alter-ego again. He’d helped him just now, no? Maybe he’d help again?

No answer. Damn it all.

Out of the blue, an idea popped up in his mind.

A terrible, no good idea.

So terrible, it might just work.

He forced himself to face Ezra again and made his lips sprawl into a smile.

“Babe, did you forget?” he asked in a soft voice, barely able to keep up the act. “I have to shop for Mom’s birthday present, remember?”

Ezra blinked in surprise.

“What?” he uttered. “Really?”

“Oh, silly you,” Yuuri laughed, placing his hand over Ezra’s arm and gently taking it off him. The other didn’t budge, maybe out of disbelief or maybe he was just trying to come across as natural. “I have to go now, Mari’s probably worried sick.”

And with that, just to top it off with one final lie, he stood on his tiptoes and planted a kiss on Ezra’s cheek.

He could’ve sworn he heard screaming somewhere in his head.

It felt wrong and so terribly disgusting that he wanted to wash his mouth out with soap. No, not even soap. Bleach would do it.

Taking advantage of Ezra’s stupor, he joyfully waved him goodbye and tossed him a ‘see you later!’ before nonchalantly making his way towards the alleyway, counting down the seconds until he could drop the act.

_What the fuck have you done, you bland fruit loop?_

He ignored the voice of his alter-ego yelling out monstrosities and focused on keeping up the nonchalant attitude.

Just a little more…just a few steps more…

As soon as Yuuri turned the corner, he had broken into a run like his life depended on it.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The sound of his feet colliding with the ground.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

The sound of his heart pumping blood through his veins.

He couldn’t hear anything else. He wouldn’t focus on anything else. He didn’t care about anything else.

His alter-ego’s voice once again echoed in his mind, but he forced it away. It didn’t matter to him what some ghost of the past thought of the present. A voice in his head had no power to interact with the real world. The only thing it could do is scream.

Yuuri’s lips still burned from the kiss. Not with fire, but with shame and disgust. Just what the hell was he thinking?

No, that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Nothing except the intermittent tapping of his feet hitting the ground.

His chest inflated and deflated with each short, raspy, gasp he took every so often, just often enough to stay alive. Thank the Lord that breathing was an instinct; he would’ve been long dead otherwise.

He lifted his gaze to a balcony and nodded to himself when he spotted a large palm tree. He was on the right track.

Up next, the verbena hanging on the third floor of the red apartment complex. He’d have to turn left there.

Then…then…the geranium…

What the hell has happened just now?

He was being chased by the journalists and then…there was Ezra. He’d accidentally run into him and couldn’t leave because…because the journalists already surrounded him…

Then, they asked them questions about skating and Yuuri always replied first, right? Afterward…they asked him about his family…

Or was it about his relationship?

What have they asked him about that ticked him off so much?

And what did he reply? Another lie or something truthful?

Just after that…he ran away because the journalists left, right? Or was it something else that gave him an opening?

He couldn’t remember.

His memories were hazy, unclear. It’s as if they were shielded away by a heavy mist, just out of his reach. There was…an interview, then there was Ezra and then…nothing.

Yuuri blinked in surprise and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked around and sighed. The verbena was nowhere to be seen. He’d long missed his turn.

“Damn it,” he muttered and turned back, switching back to a light jog. His legs begun aching and his lungs grew weary. But he couldn’t stop just yet, even if his whole body begged him to.

Just a little more, he told himself. Just…a little…more.

Phichit eventually found his friend slumped over at the bench next to their meeting spot.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed, rushing over. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”

Yuuri slowly turned to face Phichit, gasping, and trying to catch his breath. His hair was untied, flying each way but loose, his cheeks were awfully red and he looked like he would collapse any minute.

“Y…yeah,” Yuuri replied between raspy gasps. “I…I’m just…”

Phichit sat down next to his friend and handed him an unopened bottle of water. “There, drink.”

Yuuri nodded and opened the bottle, instantly downing it with rash, greedy gulps. He gasped again ran a hand through his disheveled hair, defeated.

“Man, I don’t remember the…the last time I’d ran so much,” he uttered weakly.

“What the hell happened?” Phichit asked, concerned. “Why did it take you so long?”

“I wanna go home,” Yuuri cut off in an emotionless voice. “Can you call a taxi? I’ll…I’ll pay for it.”

“Nope, I will,” Phichit retorted. “Look at yourself! You look like you’ve been chased by a devil or something!”

“Well, guess you’re not too…far off,” Yuuri huffed, wiping sweat off his forehead.

“How so?” Phichit asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s _Ezra_ ,” Yuuri replied, looking his friend straight in the eyes. “He found me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chonky chapter! As I mentioned in my previous note, I am on vacay, so that means I get more time to write~
> 
> Anyway...this chapter genuinely hurt to write, I'm not even kidding. I am so, so, sorry to pain your little hearts, but life is cruel and so am I >:)
> 
> Well, if despite all, you still enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to leave some kudos and comments because, for one, it lets me know that you're all real people that love this story and, for two, I wanna know your opinions about this chapter! So, don't be shy!
> 
> Till next time!


	30. Tugging on Heartstrings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains more foul language than usual, so please be advised ✌

Victor quietly hummed under his breath and stretched out his hand to scratch his beloved pet behind the ears and smiled when the latter let out a soft groan.

Warm rays of the sun squeezed through the openings of the mechanical blinds and illuminated the living room in a gentle light. The weather was beautiful today, with no cloud in sight.

They had recently returned from their morning walk -more like jog- and were now enjoying a lazy day, sprawled on the couch alongside each other.

The television ran in the background, the sound of it barely discernible. Well, it didn’t really matter. Victor wasn’t paying much attention to it, anyway, leisurely scrolling through his phone, catching up with the news of his friends. He chuckled to himself when he spotted a new picture from Yuri: a secret snapshot of his coach Yakov yelling at his former colleagues. The picture after that was Yuri running away from the coach, presumably after the latter inevitably found out his attempts at a silly joke.

A bittersweet smile formed on his features when he spotted another picture. It was from Katherine. Truth be told, he got taken by a momentary surprise when he realized that he never unfollowed her account and it was now clear that she never blocked him either. Well, it’s not like things were hostile between them; he still held her dear in his heart, but she was ultimately right: whatever they had between them, it wasn’t love. Not of the right kind, anyway.

The picture in question was her standing in front of a stand filled to the brim with one singular book. _Her_ book. The caption under the picture said:

****_“Dreams do come true!”_ ** **

He let out a slight huff and smiled. Good for her.

He continued his lethargic scrolling, double-tapping on some pictures and commenting on others with no particular desire to be productive. It was a day off for him and he fully intended to take advantage of it. God knows he needed a break.

 _“…skater Katsuki Yuuri…”_ someone on the television suddenly said.

Victor blinked in surprise.

“Attends _, quoi?_ ” he murmured in French and quickly reached out to grab the remote and raised the volume.

A little intro cut-scene played out before a journalist showed up on the screen, describing her situation, mentioning that they have been able to get an interview with “retired skater Katsuki Yuuri.”

He bridged his eyebrows. Didn’t Yuuri flat-out _refuse_ any talk about his past life? Why…was he agreeing to interviews? From such an untrustworthy news channel, no less…

The camera then suddenly focused on Yuuri and a man Victor didn’t immediately recognize.

Who the hell was this guy? He didn’t look like he could be a skater or one of Yuuri’s acquaintances. His arrogant smirk, his piercings, his leather jacket – they definitely wouldn’t belong to someone that the current Yuuri would hang out with.

Oh, but he _was_ quite different in the past, wasn’t he? Then…could it be…?

In the meantime, the interviewer had already asked the pair a question that Victor didn’t hear.

The mystery man quickly took it upon himself to reply.

_“I was helping him around with rehabilitation and stuff. You know how hard it is to go to the doctor every week, isn’t that right babe?”_

Victor’s mouth fell agape.

_Babe?_

Just who the fuck did this guy think he was? To call Yuuri something like that-

His blood ran cold when he finally realized who this man was.

Ezra. That pesky son of a bitch.

Why the hell was he still on the loose? And why the hell was he standing less than a hundred yards away from Yuuri? And why the hell were they touching and being so happy about it? And why…why did he call him…babe?

Victor watched in horror as Yuuri let out a lighthearted, melodious laugh.

Why…was he laughing? Why was he condoning this asshole’s behavior?

The journalist asked a question about Yuuri’s future plans for his career.

Once again, Ezra pounced on the opportunity to reply.

_"We've been already working on getting back on track as soon as possible. Maybe next season, right Yuuri?"_

What the-

Yuuri was in _no_ condition to even land a single loop, much less skate competitively! What kind of drugs was this man taking to allow himself to say something so inherently stupid and downright wrong?

Victor’s heart pounded in his chest, threatening to jump out. Heat slowly but surely crept up onto his cheeks as he saw Yuuri nod and crack a smile.

Another interviewer asked a question about, quote-unquote, Yuuri’s _personal life_.

What personal life? The one where he got abused and beaten? The one where he got nearly fatally injured? Or is it the one where he lost his entire life along with his memory? C’mon, take your pick!

Yuuri remained silent as if lost in thought. _Luckily_ , Ezra was there to _save the day_ with his marvelous and deeply thought-out responses.

_"Maybe even...take it to the next level sometime, you know?"_

“What the fuck.”

The only three words that Victor had the strength to utter.

Surely, even Yuuri wouldn’t agree with something so scandalous! No way in hell that he was willing to spend the rest of his life with a douchebag like-

_“Oh, you!” Yuuri laughed, lightly slapping Ezra on the shoulder._

Was Victor dreaming? Hallucinating? Going insane? Was he actually long convicted in a mental asylum and was just high on whatever sedative they had forced into his bloodstream?

He hoped to God that he was because _any_ of the aforementioned realities would be a billion times better than the nightmare he was witnessing now.

Little did he know, his nightmare was nowhere near over.

_“Do you plan on staying here in Vancouver?”_

What kind of question was that? Of course, he was staying here! He had his store, his sister, his frie-

 _“Oh, most definitely not,”_ Ezra quickly retorted. _“We were actually thinking of going back to Montreal.”_

Back to…Montreal?

That was across the fucking country! Literally!

Victor cupped his head in his hands and let out a desperate groan.

This couldn’t be real. There simply was no way.

He hasn’t seen Yuuri for about a week. What the hell could’ve happened during that week for him to flip a complete one-eighty and start acting so nicely towards his _abuser_?

Did…Yuuri suddenly remember something that made him fly off the rails like that? Or did he just run into Ezra by coincidence again? But then again, why would they act like they were still a couple…

There was another possibility but Victor didn’t dare to consider it.

 _“Where are you going, babe?”_ Ezra suddenly asked, catching the silver-haired man’s attention.

 _“I have to go shopping,”_ Yuuri replied with a lighthearted grin. _“I’ll see you later.”_

Victor’s breath caught in his throat as he helplessly watched Yuuri plant a soft kiss on Ezra’s cheek then quickly disappearing out of the frame.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even so much as _think_.

All he could do is powerlessly feel his chest fill with scalding, unreformable anger, his heart beating like a bomb ready to explode.

The interview kept on going regardless of Yuuri’s absence, but Victor couldn’t care less about it anymore. He had heard enough.

He didn’t realize that he had managed to pick up the phone and dial Yuuri’s number, only snapping out of his trance when he had heard his voice.

“H-hey, Victor,” he heard over the phone. “Sorry, I’m a little busy today.”

“Why is that?” Victor shot back; his voice thick with spite. “Packing your things for Montreal?”

“What are you talking about?” Yuuri asked, genuinely confused. “Why Montreal?”

“Oh, what a coincidence!” Victor replied sarcastically. “I was just about to ask you that.”

“I honestly have no clue what you mean,” Yuuri retorted. “Care to explain?”

“Oh, but of course!” Victor said. “I was just watching one very interesting interview…”

He got cut off by Yuuri.

“Oh, my god,” he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see that…”

“Oh, really?” Victor asked, struggling to hold back his anger. “Was _anyone_ even supposed to see that?”

“Calm down!” Yuuri said. “It wasn’t that bad. I think…”

“You _think_?” Victor exclaimed, seeing red. “Then we have awfully different definitions of bad. Riddle me this then: was it bad enough when he called you babe? Or was it bad enough when he said that you’d be coming back next season?”

“What the…”

But Victor carried on.

“Was it when he said that you’d both be moving to Montreal post-haste? Or, maybe, just, _maybe_ , it was when you _kissed_ him?”

Yuuri didn’t reply.

“I don’t get you, Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “Why the hell would you _ever_ even consider returning to that jerk? Don’t you realize that all he’s ever done was hurt you?”

“It’s…not…it’s not what you think, I swear,” Yuuri feebly uttered.

“Then fucking tell me, what the hell is it?” Victor yelled.

No answer.

“Yuuri?” he asked.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

He had hung up. And the room had fallen into complete and utter silence.

Victor blinked in surprise and took a shaky breath. Makkachin had ran away somewhere, no longer at his side.

What the hell was that just now?

Why was he…so angry?

The fury in his chest gradually died down, leaving a disgusting bitter feeling.

The feeling that he knew all too well. The feeling that he never wanted to feel again.

Jealousy.

Cold, vicious jealousy.

He wanted to call Yuuri again -to apologize, mind you- when his phone suddenly lit up with a new notification.

**** Yuuri ^-^: ** ** ****I am so, so, sorry. Please, let me explain myself. It’s not at all what you think, I promise you. Please meet me at the park tomorrow, around five.** **

Victor didn’t even realize that he was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all, I want to say that I am so sorry for breaking your little hearts...
> 
> Second of all, I swear that happy days are ahead. But now you get a shorter chapter, cause let's be real, it's already painful enough.
> 
> And last, please don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed because I am writing this on my phone and it's...a while past my bedtime and I'm really tired...


	31. The Fire Burns Eternal

Yuuri took a deep, shaky, breath, nervously fiddling with his mechanical pencil. Small piles of paperwork and receipts laid in front of him on his desk as he slouched over a particularly large order, that of a wedding, more specifically.

And boy was it an ambitious wedding. He was commissioned to provide about fifty custom floral arrangements to place on the guest tables, as well as to manage the general decoration of the site, not to mention the bride’s bouquet…

Well, safe to say, it was going to be some hellish work.

But Yuuri wasn’t thinking about it at all. Oh no, his mind was somewhere far, far, away…

The clock on his desk had struck four-fifty-five, just about five minutes before he’d have to close shop for the day. He would normally let Sky close it, but decided instead to give her an early dismissal, to have some time alone, just to properly collect his thoughts.

After all, he had a meeting to attend.

The very thought of it made him feel queasy.

How could he even explain something like that? The things that he said…the things that he did…they were too conspicuous and planned to be just a bare coincidence and Victor probably must’ve noticed that.

No, there was no meddling with it. He definitely noticed that, because why else would he react like that? Yesterday…his voice sounded so angry and upset as if he was deeply disappointed by the situation.

Was he even going to show up? Or have all the bridges been already long burned?

Yuuri shivered at the last bit.

Surely, as upset as Victor might’ve been, he would be willing to give a second chance, right?

Let’s hope that it’s the case…

With that in mind, Yuuri weakly pushed himself up and began putting away the numerous stacks of paperwork back into the cabinets and tidied up the store.

Taking one last glance around the place, he let out a shaky huff and grabbed his backpack, locking the door behind him.

The weather outside felt cool and uninviting and the receding rays of the sun became fainter with every passing moment, giving way to the darkness of the twilight looming over the skies.

Yuuri figured that he had at least an hour before the sun ultimately disappears and the night claims its rightful time. He’d best return home before then, lest he’d catch a cold.

He quickly made his way up the street, rock music drumming in his headphones. Store windows and lampposts illuminated the otherwise dark road, its fluorescent markups flashing with the occasional passing car.

He could’ve taken the long way, choosing to observe the hanging plants and Halloween decorations of the small alleyways, but ultimately decided otherwise, as he had a time to respect and, truth be told, he didn’t want to disappoint Victor more than he already had.

In no time, Yuuri found his way to the local park, still bright, just like during the day. Indeed, a myriad of lanterns was sprinkled all around the territory, making it a safer space for its visitors. Not to mention that it also looked beautiful.

And only then had he realized that he never specified an exact location for their meet-up.

Yuuri cursed and facepalmed at his own stupidity. What was he to do now?

Well, he could always go to the weeping willow on the hill and wait there. Maybe Victor would be there too? After all, they’ve gone to that place together several times…

With that, he slowly climbed atop the hill, rehearsing his explanations one last time, frenetically muttering them to the air, as if he, himself, was the one he was trying to convince in the first place.

Finally, the horizon came into sight. A solitary lamp set the hill and tree alight, standing right next to a bench.

And on that bench…

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat when he spotted a flash of silver hair fluttering in the wind.

He did come, after all. He should be comforted, right? Not all was lost, right?

So, then, why was his heart beating like a thousand drums?

He stood there, frozen as if rooted to the ground. He let out a quiet, shaky sigh as he shoved his headphones in his pocket, desperately trying to grasp ahold of his emotions.

What if this was a bad idea? What if Victor wouldn’t even be willing to listen? What if Yuuri’s ramblings would do him far more harm than there already was? What if-

“Oh, Yuuri…” he suddenly heard. “Hello…”

He blinked in surprise and lift his gaze to find Victor facing him, nonchalantly leaning on the bench. His expression seemed cold, emotionless, just like it always was. Nevertheless, his mood was usually easily discernible. Well, to Yuuri, at least. Now, on the other hand, it was unreadable, as if covered by an invisible mist.

“H-hi…” he uttered, forcing his feet to move. “How…how are you?”

He didn’t want to get _too_ close, as yesterday’s events still painfully haunted his psyche, looping in his mind like a broken record. Even though he no longer remembered most of it, the very notion of him being trapped between Ezra’s claws once more still sent shivers down his spine.

Victor let out a light huff and his lips stretched into a tight smile. It didn’t seem fake, or, even if it did, it was pretty convincing, which gave off all the more suspicion. He was so angry yesterday, so why was he acting so calm all of a sudden?

“I’m okay,” he replied. “But what about you? How have you been?”

Yuuri inadvertently cringed at the question. What kind of answer was he to give?

A reel of yesterday’s incidents flashed before his eyes, each and every one of them piercing his soul like a spear.

“Fine,” he said, risking a lie. “Bit of a busy day today, actually…”

“Is that so?” Victor hummed, gesturing for the other to take a seat. “Trouble at the store?”

Yuuri shook his head and reluctantly obeyed, making sure to keep at least a good foot of distance between them. He wondered why Victor tried to make small talk instead of jumping to the main topic straight ahead. Could it be to relieve tension? To make it less awkward? Or is it something else entirely?

He could sense the discomfort in the air, most of it probably being his own. Neither of them uttered a word, undoubtedly waiting for the other to start.

He stole a glance at Victor, whose gaze was directed somewhere far away, into the horizon. His pensive eyes twinkled in the slowly receding sun and the cool air left soft red kisses on his cheekbones and pointy nose…

There was something so mesmerizing about the way that his chest slowly rose and fell as he let out little huffs of breath, his silver locks gently swaying in the wind. Something so beautifully elegant.

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat when Victor suddenly spoke up.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Err…no, I’m sorry,” Yuuri replied, averting eyes. Strong, irregular pumping shook his chest.

Okay. This was it. Now or _never._

He took a deep, shaky, breath.

“Victor, I…”

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” Victor interrupted, letting out a sigh. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that…”

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“It wasn’t right of me to be so angry,” Victor carried on, shaking his head. His voice quivered with remorse. “I don’t even know what came over me…”

No, wait! Why was _he_ the one apologizing?

“I got so scared that you might’ve decided to go back to him after the shit he’s done to you, but even then…” the latter said, running a hand through his silver hair. “It was no excuse for my reaction, and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

And then he looked at Yuuri with a hopeful, almost desperate expression. He bit his lip ever-so-slightly, visibly falling to nervousness with every passing moment of this cold, heavy silence.

He was waiting for Yuuri’s reaction, should be it a nasty retort, a prompt exit, or, if heavens permit, an indulging smile.

But Yuuri never answered.

Instead, he pulled Victor in a tight hug.

A raging flame sparked in his chest as an overwhelming wave of warmth engulfed him. His heart frenetically pounded in his chest, like a chained beast about to break loose. He felt Victor's arms reluctantly circle around him and let out a large sigh of relief. The nervousness, the fire in his chest was gone, leaving all but a breeze of happiness behind.

This happiness brought the heat to his cheeks and forced his lips to spread into a smile.

This happiness made him feel at peace.

This happiness that he couldn’t help but yearn for.

“Yuuri…?” Victor murmured, struggling to maintain his composure. “Wh…why did you…?”

“You had nothing…nothing to apologize for,” Yuuri softly replied, releasing his grasp. “It’s okay. You’re not the one at fault.”

“But still, I apologize,” Victor argued, softly pulling away. “It was wrong of me.”

Yuuri lift his eyes to meet Victor’s remorseful ones.

He smiled ever-so-slightly.

“I forgive you then.”

Victor blinked in surprise.

“What?” he asked, taken aback.

Though they had broken the embrace, their hands still lingered on each other, almost entwined. They were so close, Yuuri could feel Victor’s warmth and hear his shaky breathing.

“I said, I forgive you,” he reiterated, risking a look into Victor’s hesitant gaze. He, whose stance was always imperturbable and cool, was nearly sinking into his scarf, desperately trying to mask the heat on his cheeks.

Yuuri let out a quiet giggle and offered Victor a warm smile.

“It’s fine,” he assured. “I promise you.”

Victor sighed and shook his head, defeated.

“Alright then…” he said. “If you say so.”

Their hands still loosely rested on each other, basking in the warmth – so welcome on such a frosty evening. Though Yuuri was relishing the lightweight happiness submerging him, he couldn’t help but yearn for more. He couldn’t help but long to close the distance between them, so small, yet it seemed a chasm.

He couldn’t help but hope that Victor longed for it too.

This feeling of happiness…of desire…just what the hell was it?

He couldn’t know for sure, but he certainly wanted to feel more of it.

“Uhm…Yuuri?” Victor suddenly spoke up, moving away. “Can you please tell me what actually happened?”

And with that, the warm euphoric feeling dissipated in a flash, making place for a cold reality.

“Ah…that’s right, I owe you an explanation, do I not?” Yuuri replied. He looked into the distance and sighed, his body missing the other’s warmth. “I don’t even know where the fuck to start, to be honest. It’s all just a huge mess…”

“It’s okay if it’s messy,” Victor said with an indulging smile. “I just want to hear your side of the story.”  
  
“Well…in that case,” Yuuri began with another sigh. “I suppose I should begin with the part where Phichit and I went out skating.”

“You went out skating?” Victor asked, pleasantly surprised. “And how was it?”

“Phichit told me my skills were, and I quote, _fucking rancid_ ,” Yuuri replied with a small chuckle.

Victor laughed at the last bit. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, Phichit doesn’t mess around,” Yuuri said. “Then we got, dare I say, ambushed by a buncha journalists and we decided to make a run for it and meet up somewhere afterward.”

“That…sounds like something I’d do,” Victor commented, running a hand through his hair.

“Everything seemed alright then, I’ve managed to lose those pricks,” Yuuri carried on, pointing his gaze to the ground. His voice grew quiet. “And then…”

His memories were hazy, unclear. He had no true notion of what exactly happened afterward.

“And then what?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all blurry, I can’t even tell you what the hell happened…”

“You remember nothing at all?” Victor asked, arching a brow.

“All I remember is feeling this unholy mix of fear and disgust,” Yuuri said, cringing at his words. “And that feeling is probably etched into my mind by now.”

“Oh…” Victor trailed off, looking away. “That’s…unfortunate.”

He looked disappointed. Disappointed and far from satisfied with the answers he’d gotten. He probably didn’t even believe him, but then again, who would?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Yuuri spoke up after a moment of silence. “You think I went batshit crazy and had the sudden urge to come back to him, is that it?”

Victor blinked in surprise.

“Wh-what?” he uttered, taken aback. “Why…why do you say that?”

Yuuri shrugged.

“Because it’s written all over your face, Vic,” he replied, letting out a huff. “You don’t believe me.”

Victor opened his mouth to protest but Yuuri cut him off.

“It’s fine if you don’t,” he said, getting up from his comfortable spot. “But I want you to know that I regret each and every moment of that event. And if you take what you saw above my word, well, then, I guess it can’t be helped.”

He turned his back to the bench and slowly began walking back home.

“Goodbye, Vic,” he said, without even turning around. “See you sometime…maybe.”

His breath caught in his throat when he felt Victor’s hand on his wrist.

“Yuuri, wait!” Victor exclaimed.

“What…is it?” Yuuri asked in a monotone voice, nevertheless stopping dead in his tracks. He could feel his heart beating in a frenzy, just about ready to jump out from his chest.

“I believe you,” Victor said, gently forcing Yuuri to turn around. “I honestly, sincerely, do.”

He bit his lip and looked away, struggling to maintain his cool. “Ah…that’s…nice, I guess.”

“Yuuri, look at me,” Victor said, his voice kind, yet firm. “I’ll always trust you with something like that, alright?”

Yuuri lift his gaze only to meet a pair of ruthless jewel-like eyes drilling through his soul.

“Yeah…alright,” he uttered, nodding.

Victor seemed satisfied with that answer. He looked into the distance and sighed.

“It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

“It is…” Yuuri agreed, clutching his jacket. “Awfully cold too. I really should return home.”

“Jeez, Yuuri, you should start dressing warmly,” Victor softly reprimanded as they both made their way down the hill. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Ah, I won’t, don’t worry,” Yuuri shrugged with a nonchalant smile. “I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Victor replied. “I’m just concerned, is all.”

“Speaking of concern, don’t you need to get home as well?” Yuuri asked.

“I could walk you home first,” Victor suggested, shrugging. “Keep you company a little while longer…”

Yuuri struggled to conceal a large, content grin. “So be it then.”

And with that, they made their way out of the park, walking at a slow, leisurely pace, taking in the nightly streets.

“You know, the other day I remembered that you used to have long hair,” Yuuri eventually said with a smirk. “Gotta say, looked fuckin amazing.”

“Ah, is that so?” Victor chuckled. “It’s been quite a while since I had it.”

“But short hair suits you too…there’s just one tiny problem though,” Yuuri added, suddenly reaching over before the other had a chance to react. He softly moved Victor’s bangs away from his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Victor asked, flushing red.

“I’m clearing out your eyes, it looks like you can’t see shit,” Yuuri explained, shrugging. “Your hair’s all in your face.”

“And speaking of,” Victor replied. “I just noticed that you have a ponytail again.”

“Yeah, my hair grows fast,” Yuuri said, twirling his messy locks between his fingers. “But it gets tangled easily, so I usually keep it trimmed, although I got bored of that, so now it turned into what you see now,” he stated with a little huff. “A fuckin mess.”

“Don’t say that,” Victor said. “It looks good like that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Ah, I wanted to talk to you about something I remembered,” Yuuri spoke up as they were crossing a desolate street.

“Is that so?” Victor hummed, turning to face the other. “What is it?”

“I remembered that we used to practice every day when we competed together,” Yuuri began with a fond smile. “We could stay at the rink for hours, just perfecting a Salchow or whatnot.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Victor gasped. “Man, we were so restless back then. Couldn’t even stay still, huh?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s right,” Yuuri laughed. “I also remembered you poking fun at my interpretation of a Salchow, saying that, quote-unquote, your dog would land it better.”

Victor let out a melodious chuckle.

“I don’t remember saying that,” he said, shaking his head. “Your jump must’ve really been bad for me to comment something like that.”

“Knowing myself, it probably was,” Yuuri agreed, shrugging. “I remembered that landing it really hurt.”

“Ouch…” Victor cringed. He pondered for a few moments as if lost in thought. “You know…I remembered that at some point we just stopped practicing together.”

Yuuri bridged his eyebrows.

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” he said with a sigh. “We must’ve had our reasons.”

“Maybe…” Victor trailed off.

“I also remember that one time we ditched the afterparty and just walked on the beach for hours,” Yuuri pointed out with a grin. “Y’know, just walking in the moonlight without a care in the world?”

“I don’t remember but I can imagine,” Victor smiled. “A walk on the beach with you…sounds wonderful.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks heating up.

“It seems to me that we were quite close before…your accident,” Victor said, his voice turning melancholic at the last bit. “And yet it felt like I was meeting you for the first time the day I first came in.”

“Well, in a way, you were,” Yuuri replied with a shrug. “I _have_ changed a lot.”

“Even then,” Victor said, looking into the distance. “Even when we became strangers, we managed to get close again.” He turned to face Yuuri with a soft smile. “That must be fate, no?”

Yuuri’s lips sprawled into a euphoric grin.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, biting his lip to get ahold of his pounding heart. “It’s meant to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I return to you with a moderately chonky boi! It was so fun to write all the dialogue twists and turns and to develop the character mindsets. Ah, I really hope you're enjoying the content so far because there's a lot more to come!
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinions, so please don't forget to sprinkle some kudos and comments down below so that I know that you all are real people lolol


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